The Ghost
by CluainnFhada
Summary: Steampunk AU. Prodigious sky pirates Soul and Maka versus the enforcers out to determine whether or not the 'Ghost' is real. WARNING- this story contains made up technical jargon.
1. Chapter 1

**I started writing this thinking something along the lines of-oh yay a cute little steampunk oneshot it's going to be the most fun ever and nothing will ever hurt and it wouldn't be like forty longhand copy pages or anything. I WAS WRONG.**

Maka looked like she was about to hit her 'precious baby' with a wrench, something Soul knew she would never actually do. However, Soul was equally aware that no matter what went wrong with the ship, it was always, and unconditionally his fault. He made the executive decision to get the hell out of the engine room before his forehead was introduced to whatever his abusive engineer had at hand.

Maka had built the _Ghost _herself-almost all her own design, a labour of love she was constantly updating, upgrading(Soul was almost a hundred percent sure that both of those words meant the exact same thing) and, thanks to their less then legal endeavours, repairing. Stacked up along one wall of the tiny room were dozens of boxes bursting with convenient pocket sized notebooks, all filled with cramped handwriting and minute, annotated diagrams-"Every engineer creates his own bible," and Maka's bible was... extensive, to say the least. Also set out in an extremely complicated system known only to Maka-although Soul suspected part of the system was always have something within arms reach you can use to clobber your pilot-was a plethora of tools and spare parts that Maka had to modify for her masterpiece.

Her masterpiece which to the casual passer by, if the casual passer by was in the possession of an undiscerning eye, would very much like an engine rebuilt from pieces of the finest scrap the world had to offer, if you were willing to search for long enough. It was of course built from scrap, each piece lovingly modified by Maka to fit her grand design of the smallest airship ever built.

Smallest and fastest. The _Ghost _was as living a legend as an inanimate object could be. Maka, who would've clobbered Soul for claiming that her airship was inanimate, was rather greatest engineer in the world; but she was never going to get into any college. Her gender denied her that opportunity; her gender and old superstitions stemming from the Dark Era when man had forgotten flight and ships had been confined to the seas alone, and the skies were empty. Maka and countless engineers like her, with their heads beyond the clouds, pondered how high they'd be if the secrets of flight had not been lost. If they had not reinvented it completely.

Every inch of the small ship's hull was covered in solar cells and the less than flexible sails of the _Ghost,_ giving the ship its strange scaly appearance. Maka had become obsessed, working every spare minute on the tiny solar cells. She'd pored over heavy tomes and texts, something not unusual for her, studying scales and feathers and most of all flora until she'd cracked whatever the hell it was she was cracking. Until she'd managed to make the small, each only about the size of her own small palm, solar cells adjust to absorb the most light energy. The solar cells, normally used tile the roofs of houses, moved constantly; and when the _Ghost _was on a raid, darting in and out, the ship looked very strange indeed._  
_

If the engine was Maka's baby, more like almost the whole ship, the cockpit was Soul's. The most advanced navigation system money could buy from unscrupulous dealers, echo-location, the works, all put to shame by Soul's pride and joy- the organ.

The organ flew the ship. Soul played the organ, the pipes doubling as steam valves at Maka's practical insistence. It was a masterpiece born of Soul's mind and musical prowess, not to mention his talent for the restoration of even the most derelict instruments. The organ ensured nobody but Soul could fly the ship, and only Maka knew how to turn on the auto-steering. The organ was tuned to his wavelength. It was complicated, and Soul was only about ten percent sure how it worked, but if Maka was working on her baby and _needed not to be disturbed unless the sky was falling down around them _Soul was going to work on his.

The last raid had knocked the ship around a bit, messing up the engine and invariably making the organ out of tune. Soul couldn't play an out of tune organ, couldn't fly the ship when the organ was out of tune.

So, he set to work.

* * *

When Soul claimed the _Ghost _was a legend, he hadn't been exaggerating-people thought the _Ghost_ was an actual ghost ship, a ship of the Golden Age Of Flight one built of the Lost Technologies, haunting the skies for millennia.

Hundreds of legends had been absorbed by the _Ghost's _mystery, giving the ship a much longer life than its three years. It had fought for the witches in the Thousand Wars; it had been the ship on which The Last Emperor of The Sunken Isle had been murdered; it was the airship that the First Death himself built.

The ship was small, less than half the size of the current official record holder, the _Beelzebub_, about the size of the Ancient Airships that barely existed, if even. They were only remembered in fables and legends, ghost stories and fairytales, most sources discredited or unacknowledged by leading historians in that field. Maka believed in the Golden Age like some people believed in religion. Soul didn't buy into either- the _Ghost _was revolutionary and of course very, very real.

Her 'baby' got shrouded in its own steam and the pale smoke it coughed out, shrouded in mystery. The strange and twisted music that heralded its arrival echoed in the minds of many. And of course, the Demon at the Helm and the Running Reaper.

Most people didn't believe it existed and there were all kinds of legends and stories about the _Ghost_. Stories embroidered and embellished in dozens of places, segments completely changed to suit the teller of the tale's own flair for melodrama. The Officials? As far as they were concerned it was a scam, since Maka and Soul only targeted black market ships, the Underworld smugglers along illegal trade routes, the officials weren't reported to, and the only sniffs of whispers they heard led them to believe that it was a vague sort of conspiracy. The smugglers were selling the goods themselves and blaming this _'Ghost'_.

Unfortunately, to make the ship that small, Maka sacrificed a lot of what she had thought to be extraneous and other people might have referred to as necessities. There wasn't space to swing a cat, if one had a cat to swing. And in Soul's absolutely honest opinion, the airship was ugly. To Maka, the bare nature of the valves, the steam outlets that both ran the ship and kept the small space a minimum of toasty warm, and the fact that the ship had been completely built out of junkyard scrap, illegal equipment, and a church organ, was beautiful.

The outside held a certain charm-the way the solar cells, regular little pentagons, fit together in a honeycomb pattern. The way the grey looked warm and alive when holding the light, and the way they rippled when Soul was darting around a much larger ship.

The cargo hold was a space that held a reality of not actually that much, behind which, automatons of the barest and ugliest nature created by Maka shovelled all manner of fuels-wood, coal, anything that burned- into a furnace that boiled water to supplement that boiled by the solar cells.

Soul wouldn't trade that rust bucket for the world.

The _Ghost_ was the only two man airship in the world. Even if people knew it was real, it would still be a legend.

* * *

Death the Kidd, mostly just Kidd, stood before his father's desk nervously. Throughout all the Ages, the Death family name had remained prominent, and the Steam Era or the Second Age of Flight was no different. Kidd stood a little straighter, if that were possible, when his father entered. His father had never before called on him during work hours. Lord Death didn't want to show favouritism, or be accused of nepotism. Not that he could've avoided it any longer- Kidd was first in The Shibusen Academy for Pilots.

Shibusen, or The Academy as it was known, was a high class establishment with the sole purpose of teaching the generation's most promising to be best and the brightest of pilots, engineers and communication experts. It churned out airship crew cores the way some colleges churned out teaching staff.

Lord Death was running out of excuses not to give his son's crew a mission.

"Father?" Kidd saluted smartly, just because they were blood relatives didn't mean military formalities could be ignored.

"Kidd, I'm assigning you a mission, and a crew."

"Father," Kidd pointed out, hoping not appear impertinent, but rather informative, "I already have a crew,"

"Yes, it's just a small change to your ...company. Nothing to worry about,"

"Who are they?" Kidd had to fight to keep a note of suspicion out of his voice. It had been no secret that his father disapproved of the crew his heir had put together. His father feared that the class differences might cause the ship at best, might cause his family name at worst, to be cast into a shadow of disrepute.

"Just the one- I need you to take Spirit Albarn," Spirit was a member of Lord Death's own highly qualified and extraordinary crew. He had a mysterious past, a shady present, and a questionable future if his behaviour remained as it was. He and Lord Death had been friends for a long time; the only reason Kidd's father overlooked the numerous scandals he was entangled in. And he was the best there was at his chosen profession. He was treated as an equal, _with respect_, but Kidd's crew were looked down on.

"But he's-"_a lot of things. Not least a womanizer, overly fond of the drink and the company of women of ill-repute. _Half of Kidd's crew were women of ill-repute.

"Son. He's the best navigator out there, and you know it."

"My navigational skills are fine," _Better than fine, I'm first in the Acadamy for a reason. _Kidd had managed to catch himself, and swallowed his defiance where he stood- he needed this mission.

"For this particular mission, you need the best, and Spirit's Underworld connections can't hurt either," Most of Kidd's 'company' were so Underworld, they were overworld connections to about ninety percent of their friends.

"Yes Father, but what's the mission?"

"You have heard of the _Ghost, _I presume?" Lord Death asked seriously, and it had suddenly become necessary for Kidd to take a moment to compose his thoughts.

"Of course, Father. It's the talk of the shipyards, not to mention those awful penny dreadfuls. It's a legend. As mythical as a mermaid. What does it have to do with anything?" Kidd's expression of confusion was genuine.

"I need you and your... crew,"-again there had been the hesitation before referring to Kidd's crew, the tiny pause laced with distaste at what was to come next, "To find out whether or not that ship is real, and to apprehend the crew if you deem it necessary. Above all, your objective is to capture the ship. If it's real, which I rather suspect it is,"

"But why us?"

"Your ship, _Beelzebub, _is, counting this _Ghost, _thebest there is available. You're the best out there. I-we need the best people for each particular mission, and right now the best people for the job are the best people. And the best are you, Spirit and, much to my dissatisfaction, your _crew_,"

Everyone knew Lord Death had issues with his son's, admittedly unorthodox, crew. Or more specifically the three women serving on it, women who didn't exactly come from the highest social standing. Old biases died hard, and women still hadn't been allowed to study at the Acadamy. Or almost any other college, almost. They had extremely limited options, and negligible power to change that.

Kidd knew Tsubaki, Liz, and Patti were the best out there, and so did his father, as much as it had pained him to admit it.

"Yes, sir." He took the slim paper file, stamped with the seal of the House of Death, before saluting once again and taking his leave.

As Kidd had suspected, his dutiful and every loyal crew were outside eavesdropping shamelessly. One advantage of being notorious was that even the most higher-ups skirted around them, only reporting their unacceptable behaviour quietly behind doors were it stayed, easily ignored by the crew.

"Sounds like a wild goose chase to me," Tsubaki had said sadly, a disappointed sigh escaping her. Tsubaki had done the impossible-the curvy Japanese woman had hacked the impenetrable Shibusen Academy Hub, and almost got away with stealing millions of dollars worth of her preferred currency, information, from the most secure system in the world. Kidd had caught her and now she worked for him.

"A _ghost ship? _Of all the-"Liz muttered darkly, if one could simultaneously mutter darkly and look absolutely terrified out of their life. From street rats to infamously unscrupulous sharp-shooters, she and her sister Patti-the Thompson sisters- were just as unorthodox as Tsubaki.

Black*Star, too big to listen to their blather properly in the normal run of things, and Hiro-the only member of Kidd's crew with his Lord Death stamp of approval- who was looking about nervously clutching his notebook, were the engineers of the _Beelzebub. _Black*Star was a charity case who'd risen quickly through the ranks of his class of engineers, owing to his unwavering dedication to being unbeaten. The pair of them had looked up at _'ghost ship.'_

"Do you mean the_ Ghost? _That's just an urban legend," Hiro dismissed, before returning to his notebook and beginning to record the conversation in a shorthand of sorts he'd invented-a complex system of prime numbers and characters with only a very small amount of actual letters- and that only he could read. Tsubaki, an information junkie had, in her spare time, been attempting to learn but thus far, she wasn't making great progress.

"Yeah!" Black*Star jabbed his thumb into his chest, successfully yanking the narrative back on track. "The only real legend in this world is me!"

"Father wants us to verify if it is a legend or not, then apprehend the crew and seize the ship in the name of Shibusen, if it really is a reality," Kidd read the thin file as he started to walk, his crew quickly scrambling up behind him- illegal trade routes, myths, an artist's impression of the ship, the Demon Pilot and the Reaper Runner.

The ship was small, shrouded in smoke and coated in scales. It looked like a great dragon, except for the twisted musical notes the artist had added of his own volition. He wasn't going to take any of these illustrations for accurate-people exaggerated, it was in their nature- and when he saw the snarling red-eyed demon with a shock of white hair and an even bigger shock in the form of a mouthful of sharp teeth and the cloaked androgynous figure with a scythe like a reaper of souls, he laughed out loud.

"Father assigned me a new crew member,"

The others blanched and didn't bother attempting to stifle extremely audible groans-nobody liked working with them, and they all left the collection of underdogs in the end. But more usually as soon as they possibly could.

"You aren't going to like this, girls-Spirit Albarn." Tsubaki put on her brave face, but the Thompsons groaned again-even louder than before. Spirit Albarn was a legendary navigator, and on top of that, a total slut. Despite his reputation extending far beyond the local hangouts and his frequent customer privileges at the local cabaret, the man was smooth operator, charming as prince and able to seduce almost any woman he set his sights on.

"Wait, back to the _Ghost, _he really thinks-?" Tsubaki looked grateful for the none-too-subtle subject change. She smiled at Liz.

"No. It's a wild goose chase- the only way a ship could be built that small and that fast was if-" Hiro cut off Black*Star's inevitable '_If it was built by me, the great Black*Star!_'

"-it was built using the Lost Technologies," Hiro flips a page in his notebook. "Which, apart from being _lost, _there's only one academically credible documentation of ever actually existing in the first place."

"The Books of Eibon," sighed Tsubaki almost reverently.

"Those aren't exactly do-it-yourself manuals- the man was the Tsubaki of his day. An information junkie, but The Lost Technologies, which weren't nearly so lost back then as they are today weren't interesting to him. The lost wonders of flight were commonplace back in those days."

"Liz," Patti giggled, "How can technology be Lost?" Patti giggled again. Patti was always giggling-she couldn't help it.

Liz shrugged, glanced around for suggestions and when nobody had any, said: "Maybe they forgot where they left it sis,"

"At any rate, a ship that small-it shouldn't be possible! The engine alone..." Hiro lapsed into a whole pile of technical jargon, arguing with Black*Star over what was and wasn't possible. For the rest of the crew, too accustomed to discussions similar to this to care, and too unfamiliar with the terms to really understand what they were saying anyway, this was ignored and the conversation continued, if slightly louder.

"Kidd, this really is a wild goose chase, isn't it? He had to throw you something, even if it'll make us into a laughing stock," Tsubaki glanced back at Black*Star and Hiro, their voices had raised a further notch, if only to compete with the slightly louder conversation of the rest of the group. They could get pretty violent, or rather, Black*Star could get pretty violent and beat the tar out of Hiro until he was a tarless pulp.

"Well not, necessarily- if this _Ghost _is real-and I do have my doubts- the technology is, the crew-they could be of huge benefit to the Academy" Hiro piped up.

"No way! They'd never beat my contribution!"

"Of course not," Tsubaki smiled, soothing Black*Star's ruffled ego wasn't in her job description, but it wasn't in anyone else's either, so she took it upon herself to do it anyway.

They climb aboard the Beelzebub to find Spirit already there, feigning nonchalance even though it was clear in how hard he's trying that realy, he's dying to explore the most expensive ship in the fleet, somehow crewed by these fledglings. The regular crew plus interloper headed to the conference room. Meaning the part of the bridge with the large oval table and chairs that they usually ate dinner at.

"So glad you could join my crew," the open hostility in Kidd's voice made the opposite extremely apparent.

"Spirit. Please," He grinned, aiming his winning smile at the ladies.

"Mr Albarn," A small act of defiance, but enormous at the same time considering it was Tsubaki, "You've been around airships your whole life- if the _Ghost's _as small as they say it is, how many would crew it?"

"Hunting the _Ghost, _eh? On Daddy's orders?"

"Yes. Answer the question," Dealing with Spirit Albarn was going to be a trial.

Beelzebub was the finest ship in the Academy fleet and contrary to popular belief, not paid for out of 'Daddy's' pocket. The Beelzebub was funded by the standard Academy loan to fledgings which usually bought a ship, and the rest came out of Kidd's own pocket- his entire life savings. Not his father's. Like the rest of the crew he was subsidizing on the Academy allowance.

"They say there's only two," Spirit scratched his scalp under his red hair, mussing it slightly. "But to pull off all the gigs that they supposedly do there should be at least six, but with a ship that tiny doesn't have the space for a haul and even that size of a crew..."

"Two engineers at least is the legal requirement," Hiro supplied.

"Trust me, these people aren't fussed about the legalities of things,"

_"_Probabl_y_ four. At a squeeze. Spirit decided,.

"Breakdown?" Kidd didn't look up.

"One pilot, one engineer, one artillery tech and the runner," He counted each one off on his fingers.

"Hiro, Black*Star, I don't want you to worry about what you think is possible or not, If this thing flies figure out how, or at least how to take it down with minimal damage,"

"Yes boss," Determined to be the epitome of professionalism in contrast to Spirit Albarn, Hiro snapped a salute. Black*Star, determined not to be outdone be anyone saluted also. Kidd handed them the artists impression of the _Ghost._

"Liz, Patti and Tsubaki. Hit the docks and compile a list of every ship raided, every sighting and everything that was taken, if you can get it. But most importantly focus on the when and where. The only ones we know of are the undercover operatives there's got to be more, and we need to build a complete profile to catch these possibly don't even exist bad guys" They nodded, and moved to leave. "And Tsubaki, order them chronologically and try to establish a pattern,"

"Maybe I should go with tha girls, offer them some-"

"They don't need your protection." Kidd cleared his throat. "They can take of themselves, you, Spirit are going to map every illegal trading route and smugglers port you know on this map."

"The hunting ground of the _Ghost."_

"Exactly. We need to become a target, and then, come hell or high water, we are taking that ship."

**TIMELINE**

**Golden Age of Flight- Ancient Airships, Lost Technologies 1000**

**The Thousand Wars. 1000**

**The Dark Era- Ships are grounded, flight is forgotten. 500**

**The Steam Age/The Second Age of Flight-Flight is rediscovered. 500**

**This will become necessary. This is hella being it's own story. Sorry about the uncharacteristically long chapter. Please review, and tell me everything wrong with it. (My overswollen ego can handle it, I swear.)**

**Also please note, although this wasn't inspired by Airship Grigori, it was inspired by some fanart of Airship Grigori. Which is almost the same thing but not.**

**Not that there would be anything wrong with that, because that story kicks major ass.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I got a really nice review(you know who you are) for the last chapter and that kind of thing gives me a buzz that makes me sky high for days and go crazy with the typing even though I'm really slow and find it so very tedious. **

**I'm in a very good mood now, so yay typing!**

**This chapter is quite a bit short that the last one, but hopefully still good.**

**I just realized I forgot the disclaimer-if I did own Soul Eater, I think I probably would have read all the manga by now. Or maybe I could speak Japanese. Or do art good. As I can none of these things lay claim to; logically, I must conclude that I do not own Soul Eater.**

**That's it for the whole story.**

Soul had finished his work on the organ and decided that he would grab a sandwich for himself and, while he was at it, he would make one for Maka. Since they'd met, Soul had learned that Maka's focus, particularly regarding her 'baby' often caused her to forget to do things like eating and sleeping.

He opened the door to the engine room and stumbled over whatever Maka and left on the floor-either to notify her of his arrival or some engine thing she'd moved out of the way for the moment.

"Fuck!" He rubbed his injured foot," Maka!"

"Go away Soul," Maka didn't turn around, and for the record she didn't she trust Soul around the engine.

"I made you a sandwich,"

"And that makes everything all better, does it?" Soul could hear the impatience in her voice, but because only her legs-bare except for her heavy leather boots- were sticking out of the engine, he made no plans to leave the sandwich as an offering and bolt from the room like his gut was advising him to do. It would take her at least twenty seconds to extract herself from the engine, he estimated. But unless he stayed and made her eat that sandwich, she wasn't going to.

"Get out of that engine and eat your sandwich, woman," Soul lifted what he'd stumbled on. Her dress, which she'd apparently been using as a grease rag. On top of that he could see the marks his boots had made when he _hadn't _succeeded in walking over it.

"Fine," She emerged, dressed in her shift. She frowned at him, arms akimbo.

"This is why we can't have nice things." Soul held her dress out to her, and Maka snatched it from his grip. She stared at him pointedly and what she wanted him to do was clear in her eyes, so Soul smiled to himself, raised his hands in surrender and turned around.

"Yeah, Maka, because it makes such a huge difference now," He could only just hear her irritated puff of breathe as she roughly pulled the garment on. Soul turned around just as she was fastening the leather corset-decorative and (now) un-boned, something that had been all the fashion a couple of years ago. The skirt was decorated with a pattern of barely visible gears, at least under the grease stains and boot prints, that no self respecting lady would be caught dead in this season.

"Give me my sandwich and be one," She was tapping her foot in impatience, one hand thrust out to receive the sandwich.

The dress, like all of Maka's day-wear, had been mutilated to suit her purposes. Corsets were almost completely deboned with a knife. She ripped off any sleeves and slashed viciously at the skirts until they were shortened to her satisfaction. Heaven forbid that she use a _scissors. _

Soul handed her the sandwich, and contrary to the orders of his best friend, engineer and partner in crime, sat down beside her.

"I'm thinking of heading to a nearby town to stock up. Want to come?"

"Does it mean I have to wear my 'real' clothes?" Either of Maka's two un-mutilated height of fashion dresses

"Yes"

"No thanks, my baby-"Maka patted the engine affectionately, "-still needs some work,"

"Please, Maka, you have got to stop calling it that,"

"Never," She grinned, before groaning, "And I haven't even inspected the hull yet!"

"Well you have fun with that," Soul brushed the crumbs off his pants and onto the floor, darting out of the room before Maka could complain.

* * *

By the time Soul had arrived back, weighed down by a half dozen bags of provisions, Maka had finished the engine and reinstalled about thirty of her precious solar scales. The solar scales didn't actually take that long, because all Maka did was remove the broken ones and replace them. She'd spend her free minutes repairing the broken ones, stored carefully in a box, or at least salvaging the working parts within them. Maka was almost completely finished her work on the hull.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called, quickly dropping the bread bag to catch the wrench flipping head over handle through the air that was aimed for his forehead. Her way of saying-_oh, I'm glad you're back, but go away now._

Soul didn't know much, but he knew Maka would never use a wrench as big and unyielding as this to work on the tiny solar cells. He was pretty sure that she used tiny clock-maker tools for those. She'd probably been expecting him and his sarcastic greeting and had carried it just to brain him with.

"You nearly done yet?"

"Almost," She ground out, her patience was thin, and she was possibly annoyed that she hadn't knocked Soul unconscious.

"Good," He nodded, "Do you want me to wai-"

"No, you'll probably destroy something just standing there," Maka didn't look up from her work.

"Why do I get all the blame for the damage that other ships do to us when I'm covering your ass?"

"If you were a better pilot, the ship wouldn't get damaged by other ships." Maka took a step closer and Soul almost flinched before he realized that she was only moving to another section of broken scales.

"There's only so much I can do-I'm one of the best pilots out there and you know it."

"That's why you got kicked out of the Academy is it?" A hiss of air escaped Soul's clenched teeth, and he knew that if Maka wasn't focusing so intently on replacing the solar scales, this argument would already be a lot louder and more aggressive.

"That was a low blow Maka! I quit the Academy to fly this rustbucket because you asked me to!" Soul saw her jaw clench, Maka has become used to the torrent of insults Soul flung at her over the years, she barely noticed them anymore in fact, but insulting her ship? That was dangerous territory indeed, territory Soul wouldn't enter if he didn't have her favourite 'Soul-beating' wrench.

"You hated it there! I did you a favour!" She shoved the broken scale into the satchel she was wearing, a hell of a lot more forcefully then normal.

"I was only there for a week! It might have grown on me!"

Maka turned to look at him, sticking her tiny clock-making equipment into her satchel as well.

"Soul, you said so yourself- 'that place wasn't ready for a cool guy like you'," Having apparently only put away the minuscule tools to make air quotes with her fingers, Maka took them back out, resuming work on the hull.

"Yeah. Whatever, Soul's expression was about to sink into sulky when he remembered that he had another up on her, "I doubt this tincan could fly without my wavelength,"

"You couldn't focus your wavelength properly until I installed that organ for you!"

"Hey! I installed that organ,"

"No you didn't,"

"Ah, yeah, I did."

"Ah, no, you didn't,"Maka glanced up from her work for a second to glare at Soul,"You may have paid for that organ out of your parents unsuspecting pocket, and you may have fixed the organ-" The organ had suffered a lifetime of abuse and negligence and was in a sorry state indeed, damaged and almost irreparable, when Soul had bought it." -but I installed the organ so the it wasn't dead weight, that the pipes doubled as steam valves, so that they didn't block the windows and so that you could still see and that they didn't mess with the nav. system and that the autosteer-which, by the way, I only installed so you can rest and incase you ever get hurt!- still worked,

"Soul, the fact of the matter is that without that organ, you're just a damn good pilot,"

"Glad I have the organ then, aren't you?" Maka fumbled with her bag, but Soul rushed inside, laden down with the shopping, in am awful hurry to avoid Maka's expert aim.

* * *

"Any luck?"

Tsubaki shook her head in response, "There's been nothing. For almost two months now. Kidd are you sure? We could ask Lord Death to reassign the mission to somebody else."

Kidd chose to ignore the second part of her statement, instead rolling with, "No raids?"

"None, like I said. The stories of the _Ghost _have a tendency to spread pretty far, pretty fast," Tsubaki consulted her board, just to make sure.

"Okay, about seventy percent of al the raids happen on this route, between these ports," These illegal ports "We could borrow a cargo vessel and run up and down, act all smuggler like-hope we get lucky..." Kidd started adding up totals in his head, rent for a cargo ship, the wages for the extra crew they would undoubtedly need and the extra fuel hauling a bigger ship- it was all way out of the mission budget. This was a low priory case, and as such, the budget was quite small.

"Want my advice, Captain Kidd?" Spirit asked, leaning back on his chair, boots landed quite comfortably on the table.

"No particularly, no."

"Give up. You're never going to find her, that ship's just an excuse that smugglers made up so that they could foist some of the boodle. You're chasing smoke, and what's worse, you're trying to catch it with your bare hands. You want smoke, you go after the fire. Arrest the damn drunk smugglers making this crap up for an extra handful of cash."

"Smoke'd be easier to find than that damn airship," Kidd muttered.

"Okay," Spirit tried, swinging his heavy boots off the tabletop and pulling the map over to his side of the table, "Why don't we run a route from these parts- check in small towns and cute, little villages along the way- the ship's got to be receiving some damage while conducting raids, it must have pit stops somewhere, even if the damn thing's so small it doesn't need a cliff port," All ports, legal or illegal, were based in natural cliffs and old quarries-most mined out in the Dark Era. An airship as small as the _Ghost _was alleged to be could probably make do with a decent sized tree, if someone built a rig on it, or even land on the ground in a pinch.

But aside from all that, that was the first good, actually helpful idea Spirit's had since he unwillingly joined the by-now openly hostile crew. Apart from quitting, packing up shop and admitting to his father that this damn mission is too damn difficult, which if Kidd's honest, seems like the only option at times.

People's memories can be jogged, even if they're being paid to forget and if they remember; to keep their trap shut." Spirit leaned back on the chair again, his boots made a loud _thunk! _when they hit the table and a smug expression settled on his face. Spirit can read most people okay, with a few exceptions, but especially his best friend Lord Death and his son is so like his father that Spirit has no trouble predicting what Kidd is going to say next.

"We'll restock our provisions and leave tomorrow, bright and early, on the first favourable air current."

**Sorry this chapter is quite short compared to the first, but there's a lot happening in next chapter, and I needed all of it together and this was really me just exploring how Soul and Maka would just you know act around each other in this universe of mine and then a little promise of action at the end.**

**Seriously**** though, the next chapter is a doozy. Or whatever. For a writer, I'm not all the great at my words sometimes. It'll also be deliciously long,, while a word count of 1596 so far. Okay, that's not a whole lot, but that was an estimate based on 19 copy pages each with 21 lines and the random selection of lines I chose to average on gave me a result of 4. It will be long, I promise. **

**I worry that my natural tendency towards sarcasm has seeped in to the characters more than it exists in them already because I did write this in a very stressful exam time in my free periods. Not gonna lie, I wasn't really that stressed at all.**

******You don't have to review, but please, if there's anything you don't like about it, don't 'hold your peace.' Speak now! You can review also if you want to say nice things and give me compliments. That's allowed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I think it should be noted that I hate typing. It's almost like pain, except I think I'd pick pain over typing. Also I think this chapter is going to be longer than the last one, but not by much, because I think I'll cut it in a different place then I originally planned. Also I take back what I said about it being a doozy. Sorry about that. **

Four Days Later.

"Soul!?"

"What Maka?"

"We haven't raided anyone in a while," Maka's voice trailed off and Soul could hear the almost pleading in her voice, almost but not quite.

"We haven't needed to Maka-no. Maka we are not needlessly raiding any-!"

"We're raiding now,"

"Does what I saw even go in one ear and out the other? Or does it just come right back out the same ear?"

"Shush, Soul, and get into this cockpit,"

Soul emerged into the cockpit. _Only taking her out for a spin to keep her fresh, his ass! _Maka was turning into some kind of adrenaline junkie and she was itching to raid. Soul rolled his eyes, sighed and pointed to the green-gray blip on the radar, "That her? Do you recognize it?"

"I don't know who she is, but on this route, whatever she's hauling can't be legal,"

"Looks pretty big," Soul said, in a futile attempt to get his partner to ease up on the raiding because they had no where to keep anything at the moment anyway.

"We've raided bigger," She replied, lips pursed, and it's true. They _have _raided bigger ships and fried bigger fish. Soul recognized a lost cause when he saw one and tipped Maka out of his chair. Apart from a surprised squeal and a feeble smack on the shoulder(and that's when Soul knew he was forgiven-if she wanted him hurt, he'd be sore well into next week) Maka's irritation passed quickly, she's too damn excited about this raid to stay mad at Soul and she's too damn cute for Soul to say no to.

"Sure, whatever-just go get set up." Soul spun in chair once and cracked his knuckles, before switching on the limited frequency radio. Maka frowned at him, she hated the sound his knuckles made when he cracked them, and she was well aware that he only did it to wind her up. She grabbed the wireless headset that linked to their limited frequency and left, arranging it around her pigtails as Soul started to play the organ.

Maka re-entered the cockpit and squinted at the not so far away ship heading their direction.

"I recognize that airship!"

"Huh?" Soul looked up, but didn't falter in his playing.

"Soul, it's the _Niddhogg_!"

"The _Niddwhat_?"

"We've never hit the _Niddhogg_ before!" Maka eyes were shining with anticipation, "She's the most infamous smuggler ship there is. I can't believe all the time we spend hanging around skeevy illegal ports and you've never heard of the _Niddhogg?"_

"Someone might've mentioned it. You know, _once," _But Maka wasn't even paying attention anymore. She wasn't even in the cockpit anymore. She'd pulled on her black 'reaper' robe thing and when she returned, she was holding her scythe. After the _Ghost_ Maka loved that scythe more than anything.

Soul just had to be content with playing third fiddle to an airship and a deadly weapon. _No,_ his ego was fine.

"Are we in their in range?"

"Yes,"

"They in ours?"

"Yes." Soul's answers were short, it took a lot of his concentration to fly the airship under these conditions. The_ Ghost _darted around the enormous airship easily though, avoiding the heavy fire. Ships as big and old as that one needed time to aim their heavy artillery-something they could afford with a more typical airship but not with this ship. Soul was busy trying to take out either their communication or their weaponry, preferably both.

"Maka! Now! Go!" He moved in close and the could swear, no matter how often Maka told him that wasn't possible, he could feel her weight leaving the ship. _The Ghost isn't that small, and I'm not that heavy either! s_he'd insist. Soul's heart tightened in his chest every time Maka made the leap, no matter how narrow the gap, Soul always imagined his best friend falling through the air. The sudden stop that would be at the end of that trip.

* * *

Maka called out with her soul-all airships, all creations had a soul. When people put time and effort, a part of their life and their light into something, it didn't disipate into nothing, it clung and gathered together into a soul. The more people when came into contact with a thing, the louder the arguments and more mixed up the emotions and longer the object in question was around the more beautiful and bigger the soul was. Louder too.

That was the secret. Why the the _Ghost _flew, and it was a secret lost to most, but not her.

The soul of the _Niddhogg _was dark and twisted, it had a long lifetime of experience and getting the ship to tell her the right information was tricky. most ship-souls were strange, ships were made to connect, and made for contact and the life they supported did not even know how lonely an airship could get, even filled with people. In end though, it told her what she needed to know, but when she found out, it was not something she wanted to know.

This ship, she had a long memory.

"Soul?" She asked, in whisper-the headpiece's microphone would pick her up, but the people nearby could not hear her.

"Yeah?" His voice was strained.

"We have to take the ship."

"Take the ship? Are you crazy? _There's two of us." S_oul's voice was lost in a string of swears as Maka knocked out an artillery tech. "What do you propose we do with it then? Fuck! Maka! Maka, _listen to me," _Soul yelled into her ear. "There's another ship, headed right towards us and judging by its size, it's the _B__eelzebub. _Maka, you have to get out of there right now!"

She could feel the pinpricks of light that were the crews' souls, and in the cargo hold, chained like animals was a mess of scared human souls.

"Soul, no! We have- Soul, this cargo... it's people Soul. _S__laves."_

And judging by the fact that they were all women and girls, there was a very specific purpose in mind for these slaves.

"Fine We dump it at the nearest Shibusen port," The nearest on was only a couple of hours away, if that once Maka was running that ship. "Can you fly her?"

"Soul, I can fly anything under the sun,"

"So what do you need me for?" The familiar banter was taking the edge of Maka's nervousness for what she was about to do.

"To cover me!" He laugh, however brief, at least wasn't forced. Maka pulled the keys from the belt of the guard who'd crumpled seconds ago. She tried each of the keys in turn and impatiently, but even when the lock did click, she still had to slam her shoulder into the door the of the cargo hold to open it.

There were about chained twenty women, all attractive and all terrified, staring out of the gloom at her. She struggled with the keys again unlocking the first woman, before handing her the keys. She made sure to keep her face hidden.

"Lock the crew in here." Maka's voice came out soft and low, the voice of a boy. It hurt her throat to use the voice, but she was grateful that Soul had taught her the art of disguising her voice.

She left the cargo hold at run, without saying another world. Running to take the helm, and she linked her soul with the _Niddhogg's._

* * *

It was Kidd's lucky day, if you counted battles between airships lucky. They had dredged the bare minimum of information from the locals in the villages they had visited. A few new rumors and stories, but nothing that might be considered actual evidence.

If the _Ghost _was real they were paying a high price to have their secrets kept.

Until today, when they'd stumbled across the _Ghost _in the middle of a raid on a much larger cargo ship. There was no mistaking it, no other ship, in legend or in life was that small. Except the ships of the First Age. The name of the cargo ship was painted in large peeling letters across the back of the ship. The _Niddhogg._

Kidd recognized the name of that ship, one of the Acadamy's most wanted, certainly way above the tiny ship it was being pummeled by on the list. It only took the first in his class a moment to compose a strategy and after a few seconds find his rarely used authoritative voice.

"We'll wait until the ship's been boarded and the robed individual has taken out the crew. No sense in making this a three way battle. In that situation the two captains would be most likely to come to an unspoken agreement to take us out before attending to their own dispute. Tsubaki, can you-?"

"On it." Tsubaki spun in her chair, her custom built chair that allowed her to navigate and monitor all the information that flashed up on her screens. It took a minute, but it was a minute that allowed all the crew to assemble in the bridge. Also, it was a mere handful of people who could accomplish this task so doing it in a minute was nothing to be sneezed at. "Got it! I have the _Ghost's _limited frequency!"

It was no small task, but she did it and she hit the loudspeaker, projecting the conversation going on over the limited frequency into the bridge. The voices were tinny and distorted and it was difficult to make out who was speaking when, but it was comprehensible.

**"We have to take the ship."**

"_Somebody write this down!,"_ Everyone scrabbled for a pen and in the end, the transcript of what they overheard was made by four different people.

**"Take the ship? Are you crazy? _There's two of us."_**

"My bad," Spirit shrugged and was immediately shushed by the majority of the crew.

** "What do you propose we do with it then? Fuck! Maka! Maka, _listen to me. _There's another ship, headed right towards us and judging by its size, it's the _B__eelzebub. _Maka, you have to get out of there right now!"**

"They know it's us!"

**"Soul, no!," **Spirit stood up quickly, and stared to pace muttering to himself and counting on his fingers. Everyone ignored him. ** "We have- Soul, this cargo... it's people Soul. _S__laves."_**

**"Nearest Shibusen port,"** crackled the radio, and Spirit, like a man possessed stormed over to grad the radio and broadcast on the limited frequency of the _Ghost_ but the radio crackled louder, the voices were masked in a flurry of static and Tsubaki, lost the connection.

"What's going on? Get it back!" Spirit demanded.

"I'm trying!"

Spirit continued to mutter murderously to himself, the words _impossible, she wouldn't, _and _I'm going to kill him _came up with an alarming regularity. At least it would have been alarming if anyone was paying Spirit Albarn any attention.

"The _Niddhogg's _moving off!" Kidd was stunned for a moment, before seizing the wheel and the _Beelzebub _lurched, most uncharacteristically of Kidd's piloting, into motion. "They've either, somehow, managed to take the ship or they've been lost to it." Kidd found himself hoping for the lesser.

The radio crackled back to life and Kidd spared a moment to wonder why it was a good idea to have the entire crew assembled in one room.

**"Soul! I've got the helm, "** Question answered, and the whole crew sat back stunned. A ship as large as the _Niddhogg _taken by two people? Impossible, or evidently, merely improbable.** "You get the flock out of here and I'll see you later!"**

**"Maka I'm not-" **

**"Now Soul! Even in this monster, I'll still get their miles before the Beelzebub," **Despite the distortion, they were able to hear the smile in the speakers voice, and Black*Star looked personally injured by the statement.

**"Maka, you're good, but even you aren't that good. It's Lord Death Son and the fastest ship in the Shibusen fleet, whereas you lucked out with a hundred year old three-legged pig."**

**"Don't worry about it Soul. We've linked, and I'm sure I've got it under control this time. Now would you get my baby out of here? If she gets captured by the Shibusen Academy, I'll rescue you, but then I'm going to kill you."**

**"If you get captured by our friends in the S.A. I'll get-"**

Spirit finally recovered from the shock of two people capturing a ship manned by a crew in the possession of no morals and plenty of weaponry, recalled his previous anxiety and grabbed the radio's mouthpiece.

"Maka!"

"For the- Somebody stop him!" Kidd craned his neck over his shoulder, causing the _Beelzebub _to go slightly off course, and then he hurried to correct it.

"Maka! This is your Papa! Stop that ship right now!" Spirit ordered, yelling into the mouthpiece. And the rest of the crew, for the second time that day became too stunned to react quickly to the expert navigator's stupidity.

**"Soul! My cheating Papa's-"** Spirit Albarn's wayward daughter? The one who'd disappeared not too long after his wife had walked out? Most of everyone had assumed she was with her mother bonding in a special mother-daughter way over their mutual hatred of the serial adulterer.

**"I kbow, they must've intercepted our frequency- there's only a handful- Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. Has to be."**

**"Cut the communication. I need to focus, they already know where I'm going, and I need to be fast."**

**"Don't be-"**

**"Cut it Soul, or I will." **That was a voice that brooked no arguments, and the line went down for a second time. Faster then Kidd believed possible the _Ghost_ and the _Niddhogg _moved off in different directions, Kidd scrambling to follow the larger ship.

Tsubaki did the only sensible thing that could be done in this situation, although a little belatedly, and whacked Spirit Albarn on the back of the head with a heavy file detailing the life and times of Black*Star.

**Okay, just when I was reading back over it, there were two places I could cut it, and when I wrote my note of the last chapter I was thinking of really long chapter, but then I just about cut the chapter in half instead. A bit less then half actually, and then I tacked an extra bit to the end of the next chapter.**

**I'm terrible aren't I? Feel free to complain. Go ahead, I won't judge anyone. **

**Also, anyone interested enough in this to come back for the next chapter ought to know that I love back-story and you should just be prepared for that.**

**Also I will be doing SoMa week, because omigod I found out about one those before it's over, but I think it'll just be a set of ficlets in The Death City Stories. All in one chapter. Uploaded at the end of the week. Hmm... what to do?**

**Until next time, and please do review and tell my all your problems with the story. Or if there are no problems, which I _doubt, _review anyway. Oh, also I would like if someone described Soul's cockpit as they imagine it, because I was wondering if I managed to make it work the way I wanted to. It's okay if nobody feels like doing that though, I won't mind.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm very not in a good mood right now. My german oral disc ist gebrochen, and the internet is being pissy and I hate typing and I fear this story will not live up too much less exceed anyone's expectations being I am awful at twists so I generally avoid the crap out of them. So prepare for disappointment just in case.**

**There are some flash back sequences in this story, so be prepared for those hateful long italicized sections. I'm such a hypocrite.**

"Your daughter? Maka?" Kidd was frustrated, but thankfully didn't have to deal with disbelief like many other captains in his situations would. Kidd believed in the evidence. A man of science who firmly believed in equal opportunities. But that didn't ease his annoyance, he knew where the _Niddhogg_ was headed, and they were giving chase, but not fast enough. How could a cargo ship, especially one as old as the _Niddhogg _be that fast? they had no chance of catching up befor it got to the port- they best they could do was send a message and hope it arrived before the ship.

Everyone was aware of the huge scandal that was Spirit Albarn and his wife Kami's broken down marriage, and his estranged daughter.

"When Maka was little," Spirit smiled nostalgically, "She was obsessed with the Ancient Airships and the lost Technologies- she made me and Kami read them to her as bedtime stories, like they were fairy tales, and after we tucked her in, she'd go right on and read some more. She'd read the Books of Eibon by the time eight and devoured any airship manuals she could get her hands on. She could take apart and rebuild a car engine before she turned nine. She studied every book on airships and engines and clockwork she could get her hands on. She went to the junkyard everyday until she was twelve, convinced she could crack it if she worked with the scraps. The owner and his wife treated her like family. I suppose, for her, it was an escape," Spirit's face darkened, the note of pride evaporated from his voice.

"That was were she met him. Soul Evans, musical not-prodigy-enough-for-his-parents was skipping out on a lesson, and studying a flying manual. Unfortunately, around that time, I put my foot down, trying to do what was best for any young girl, but evidently not what was best for Maka. Maka had to get her head of books and plant her feet firmly on the ground. No airships, no engines and no Soul. He was a corrupting influence. A rebel, he was out of control and all he wanted to be in the world was a pilot, " Kidd looked a bit disgruntled-what was wrong with being a pilot, he wanted to know. " His reputation for truancy and ill-commitment exceeded him and his parents had to make extremely sizable donations to ensure his spot in Shibusen.

"We don't know when it started, but Maka started sneaking out at night me and Kami were too caught up in our problems to notice anything other than how well she was getting on in more suitable practices for young ladies- foreign languages, the management of a household, drawing and music.

"We woke up one morning, only a couple of weeks before Maka would be properly allowed out into society, and Maka, our daughter was gone. The only thing she'd left was a clockwork sparrow and letter explaining that she and Soul had eloped together." It was a while before anyone spoke again.

"I remember Soul," Kidd said, more to break the silence than for any other reason, "He quit the Academy after just one week. Day eight he just never showed, his dorm locker was cleared out and we were never told what happened to him."

"Well, the Evans certainly shelled out to keep the word that Soul eloped with a girl from a lower station," Spirit, had been a student of the Academy, but like Black*Star he'd been a charity case-the more politically correct term was 'scholarship student'.

"I don't think they eloped," said Tsubaki quietly, startling everyone. Tsubaki was a regular romantic and apart for the large amounts of tech in her room, there were also piles of romance novels.

"No? They just live on an airship alone together?"

"Would you," Tsubaki paused, a faint pink dusting her cheeks as she called on every romantic hero she'd ever encountered in the literary world, "Would you ever have left Kami like Soul just left Maka?" Spirit shook his head, but hastened to cobble together some kind of explanation.

"They were just kids! they didn't understand the commitment they were-" Ignoring the fact the Spirit in this situation, and for once, might actually know what he was talking about in relation to ways to the heart, Liz interrupted.

"Face it Albarn," She spun a revolver on her finger, "You don't want to believe that your little girl Maka built the the _Ghost,_ probably the best ship in exsistance, and managed to persuade her friend to fly it.

"I didn't think the conversation had escalated to that yet. We just went from A to Z and skipped H to U." Hiro pointed out, somewhat out of character, normally he was content to sit in the background and act at ship stenographer.

"Well the damn thing didn't just fall out of the sky did it?" Liz asked what the crew could only assume was a rhetorical question.

"Tsubaki, contact the Moher port authorities and let them know that the _Niddhogg's _coming rather unexpected to port, they'll want to search it and arrest the crew and Maka Albarn-" Kidd remembered his decision to notify the authorities.

"What does Maka look like, Spirit? Tsubaki asked gently, but there was no need for fear, a soft, reminiscent expression appeared on Spirit's face. It was clear that no matter what she'd done and what he'd done , his daughter still meant the absolute world to him.

"She's nineteen," Three years since she run away, and the urban legend had started around then, " She got ash blonde hair like her mother and the same wonderful olive-green eyes. She's quite pale, but she got nerves of steel."

"Tsubaki, don't forget to tell them that the women on board were being trafficked. Except, of course Maka Albarn."

"On it!" Tsubaki chirped.

"Hiro, can you sit with Spirit and work up some kind of sketch? Of Maka." Hiro looked significantly less pleased with his task, but nevertheless, he moved to sit beside Spirit, pulling a larger sheet of paper across the table to work on.

"Spirit, what's the name of the junkyard Maka used to visit so often? She must have built the _Ghost _there. We can get some ground people to check it out, with Father's approval." The Ghost was no only a real and tangible ship, but it had been built by a young teenager. Barely more than a child.

* * *

_"Don't blame me and don't blame the _Ghost _Soul!" Maka screeched, it had been a long day, a longer night and to top it all off, Soul was leaving for the Academy soon. Patience was a virtue, but even on her best days, not one she had been blessed with. "It's not my fault you can't focus your wavelength!"_

_"I don't even- What the fuck does that even mean?!" Soul grumbled, albeit incredibly loudly, for grumbling. "Why can't you fly it?"_

_"I just can't. You wouldn't understand if I explained it to you," Maka said, before trying to take a deep, calming breathe. It ended up being more of a yawn than anything else "You have to instead."_

_"Why do I have to? Maka, you're the one who figured all this out, the one who built this airship that can't fly for reasons that make absolutely no sense whatsoever to me. this is your theory, and it only makes sense to you."_

_"Just try Soul, please. Once more. That's all I ask, I promise. I won't ask again." The defeat and resignation in her voice was heartbreaking, to beaten to even yell at him anymore._

_Soul got in the cockpit- you couldn't describe that tiny space as anything but 'pit', on any other ship it was the bridge, but the _Ghost _was just way too small, it was a pit. And Soul tried once more, tried like his enthusiasm hadn't seriously waned and focused on the faith he still had in his best, his only (let's call a spade a spade) friend, and tried. He really did try to wrap his head around the most abstract conceptual theory he'd ever encountered and tried to fly that goddamn ship. But it still wouldn't fly._

_Maka started crying and when Soul had arrived on the scene, getting in and out of the ship took a while, he immediately recognized what kind of tears they were and ignored them. These were quiet personal tears, and each little ratcheted barely audible sob hurt. It seemed like a long time they sat there, Soul keeping a silent vigil on the piles of scrap, old airships and motorcars, avoiding catching so much as a glimpse of Maka's shiny tear filled eyes. _

_But she sniffed once , and opened her mouth to speak. And that's when Soul knew it was time to break out the chivalry and cough up the monogrammed handkerchief so she could dry her eyes. She scrubbed at her tear-stained cheeks and the dark hollows under her eyes._

_"I saw your soul once. When you were playing the piano."_

_"You've seen me play a thousand times, and I thought you could always see my soul."_

_"Not like that," Maka shook her head, "It was different that time. It really was you,"_

_"I don't understand Maka," She shivered against the cold night air. He'd offer her his jacket, or else silently drape it across her shoulders, but he'd left it in the cockpit. He draped an arm over her shoulders. She was wearing a jacket, but it was so old and worn and so incredibly thin, that it may as well not have even been there for all the warmth it was conserving._

_"Your parents weren't home. and Wes was out with friends or something, I don't remember. And, and you invited me over. I'd never been to your house before, nor since- what business did a lowly navigator's out-of-wedlock daughter have there?" She chuckled quietly, remembering the memory and leaned into Soul, probably because of the cold but maybe because of reasons Soul couldn't afford to think. As much as her grandparents had attempted to rush the ceremony, Maka had been born a whole three days out of wedlock._

_"I asked if you would play for me-do you remember? I was amazed by the gran piano, it was unbelievable to me how close it was, how important and expensive and I couldn't believe you got to use something like that every day._

_"And you played me a piece you write yourself, one that you hadn't played to anyone before. One that you hadn't even played before, you'd composed it all in your head. It was dark and strange and wonderful and it made your soul swell, and it was dark and twisted and that was okay because it was you and you were so focused and it was crazy and insane had you were in control of it all. And that's how I knew, and everything just fell into place right before my eyes and I cracked it right there in your bedroom. _

_"Soul you have to fly the_ Ghost _because every piece I made, I attuned it to your soul. Every piece of myself I put into this airship, I focused it onto your wavelength as I saw it in that moment."_

_"Oh. Oh. So you're saying that- oh,"_

_"Soul I made the_ Ghost _ for you because your soul, it's the most dynamic, interesting. Nobody else could fly this ship because nobody else has a soul like yours, not anymore. All the human souls are boring and cast in the same mold. Even my own soul... your soul, it's just the most amazing- Soul it's the coolest thing I've ever seen. _

_"But I haven't seen it like that since then."_

_"I know what's missing,"_

_Soul brought the organ the next day. He fixed it patiently and Maka some how installed the organ with the patience she only seemed to have when it cam to matters relating to her airship, even after Soul had left for the Academy. Not that _that _had lasted very long.__  
_

_Maka used a knife to jimmy open Soul's dorm window, a trick she later taught him, and confided that she'd learned for the scrap master's oldest son. The one with the criminal record. He'd also taught her how to pick locks and pockets._

_"Soul!" She hissed, throwing a copy of the bestselling 'Die Theoretische Elektrische Einschaften von Kraft- und Arbeitsmaschinen'* through the window at him. Nothing less than seven hundred pages, preferably in a foreign language, could even hope to wake Soul. "Get your ass out here!"_

_Soul pulled a jacket and his polished boots on over his regulation pjamas. The very reason the boots were polished every night was to act as evidence should someone sneak out at night, but Soul wasn't fussed about that- he'd rather any punishment over being on Maka's bad side. He climbed out the window, a combination of glad, surprised and slightly disappointed about how easy it was to sneak out of the most prolific pilot academy in the world. Even if it was just to the almost neighbouring scrapyard._

_The organ was installed and in tune-it only took Soul a second to check that. Soul preferred the piano, but when he'd seen the organ, he just hadn't been able to let it go. Soul sat down, with Maka hovering over his shoulder anxiously, and started to play. It was loud, perhaps too loud, but when the airship juddered and lifted off the ground, the mutual consensus was that neither of them cared all that much about noise pollution.  
_

_Admittedly it didn't fly particularly high, but that was because as soon as it lifted a foot off the ground, Soul stopped playing in surprise and the airship crashed -not every far- back to earth. Soul managed to keep his cool for about ten seconds before his face split into the widest most genuine grin Maka had ever seen grace his face._

_"Maka! You did it!" His ruby eyes sparkled, and he was almost knocked off his feet when Maka threw her arms around him. In fact, the only reason he wasn't is because that in the cockpit there wasn't enough space to properly fall over, especially now with the organ. _

_"Soul, I never thought-" _

_They were so caught up in the moment, years of frustration and failure having being worth it and accomplished something after all their efforts and neither of them had been this happy in a very long time and four years of sneaking out every night does make for incredibly sleep deprived teenagers, that soul did something that he still has no idea if he regrets or not._

_He kissed her._

_And she kissed him back too, even if it was just for a minute until they both froze and stepped back and hastened to avoid eye contact _at all costs. _The space between them became rapidly awkward and uncomfortable._

_Maka lay down on the ground and looked at the stars, locating the familiar constellations. They were like old friends waving and twinkling at her. Soul lay down beside her and gazed up at the stars, and it seemed a year and a day before either one of them spoke._

_"You know what this means, right?"_

_"We can leave." She stated it factually, as if she were telling him the time. "You don't have to you know, you've got a bright future ahead of you, and I wouldn't want to be the one-"_

_"I might have a bright future ahead of me, but the _Ghost _is a legend in the making. I think I'll go down in history instead," Soul replied, chancing a sideways glance at her to gauge her reaction. "Besides, I want to go with you." Her cheeks coloured._

_"Yeah, I have... always wanted to escape. To go on a grand adventure, but you already knew that."_

_"How can we make sure they won't come looking for us?" Both of them know the 'they' he is taking about. Her parents, too caught up in their own disaster to even bother stuffing pillows under the covers as a facsimile, and Soul's own family, to whom he has been a disappointment for a very long time. Maka has thought this true and she has only come up with two solutions, which are easily sorted into two categories; feasible and unfeasible._

_"We have to elope," She blushed, recalling their very recent kiss, "Or, pretend to at any rate," she quickly amended._

_"Huh?"_

_"It'll be easy for me to disappear, to slip through the cracks- not so much you Soul," Soul didn't argue, and nor could he admit did he have any basis for one. "If you elope with me, or at least appear to , anyway-"_

_"My parents wouldn't even want me back," Soul said, surprising himself with the lack of bitterness in his voice._

_"Soul, they'd be ashamed and disappoint__ed that you chose me," it was painful to admit it, but she couldn't imagine how much it would hurt to admit exactly how much Soul's parents disapproval of her stings. "They, they-"_

_"They wouldn't even want me back." Soul's voice is flat, but firm._

_"You'd be free,"_

_"Yeah, I would," Soul grins, but it's an empty one in comparison to his earlier elation. "Besides, the Academy's not ready for a cool guy like me."_

_"Is that a-"_

_"Maka," Soul rolled over on to his side to face her. He can see the constellations mirrored in her eyes. Somehow, they look even better there; like that's where they should have been this entire time. "Will you do me the honour of pretending to elope with me?"_

_"Yeah, sure." They bump fists, sealing the 'marriage' without the more traditional exchanging of rings._

***The Theoretical Electrical Properties of Engines and Machines (German, if anyone can do translating better than I can please confirm/deny this translation)**

**The next chapter shall probably be very much in this vein, sprinkles of fluff and my weak attempts at humour and emotions. I was in the process of maths and I needed fluff as comfort. Perhaps more flashbacks. I am uncertain.**_  
_

**As always, constructive criticisms are most welcome and please don't hesitate to ask any questions you have. Updates are farther apart because school.**

**Note-I try not to go over 3000 words per chapter(and sometimes it's easy and sometime it's not), because of long chapters are bothersome to read online in my opinion. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay guys, I can totally do this. I had my craft exam today and I am so exhausted, but on the plus side, my Irish and German orals are out of the way aswell (Yay for learning two languages), so out of practical stuff I just have my Imag. Comp. and my life drawing to do. I can do the next chapter. I'm so tired though.**

As soon as the _Niddhogg _made port at the Moher Cliffs port, the largest port in Europe, there was absolute chaos. The ship was swarmed with Guardians* the moment it landed, but luckily Maka managed to disembark in a rather unconventional, if extremely effective for losing the Guardians, manner. It was still tough though, losing them and slipping into a rather more respectable crowd then the usual ruffians she had to deal with.

She sincerely hoped that the girls would be okay, but right now she had to prioritize herself- the Guardians were an extremely trustworthy brand of law enforcement. Maka had to get back to Soul, and right now there was only two ways of doing that, the Drastic Measures and the Not-Quit-So-Drastic Measures.

In that cliche, normally one was expected to only have one, usually unfavourable option, but Maka had two choices, the second on having formed in head before she finished her cliche. She tried to weave her way through the crowds, but they parted like a sea before a prophet, the respectable upper-classes giving her a wide berth. So Maka had to content herself with hurrying, but's in a place like this, even with it's drunks and prostitutes and wheeler-dealers, it was difficult for a small woman like her to go unnoticed. Especially when carrying a large and deadly weapon, there was no way people wouldn't volunteer information on her.

Maka made her way easily to the Portmaster's office, thanks to the fact people were avoiding coming within three feet of her. Due to the office being a whole lot more organised and efficient than she was used to, the line moved a lot swifter than she had anticipated. She spent the brief period of waiting avoiding the gazes and outright stares of the those who could not seem to tear their eyes away from her.

The office clerk gave her a once over, suspicion evident in his expression, before flipping open a large black and official looking ledger. When he asked her wanted, his voice was laced with contempt. Maka swallowed her pride and politely asked where could she find a ship heading to New Haven port. There was a long silence as he flipped each page individually, and Maka wondered if a bribe would help to speed the process along. To be honest she was surprised, surprised that he didn't want her out of here as soon as possible.

She found herself ideally wishing that she was in a smuggler's port- unsavoury characters where a given, scantily clad women were expected and bribes? Bribes were hardly bribes at all. They were so common that almost no discretion was involved. They were more like tips or service charges. And even if worst came to worst Maka could've always traded a few hours of engineers' work for free passage, but here her skills meant nothing at all without a license (or at the very least a Y chromosome), which she couldn't get. Or in a smuggler's port she could've traded sex for free passage.

Not that Maka'd ever- but it wasn't actually unheard of.

There was one leaving the next day he'd informed her, and she thanked him politely despite his sullen tone. She'd be able to buy passage with a combination of her own stash and the fat leather purse she'd taken from the captain of the _Niddhogg- _which appeared to have not only gold coins but also a largish rough, uncut diamond in it.

The first thing Maka needed to do was respect the hell up. No decent ship and certainly not the _Excalibur _was going to let a ragmuffin female engineer aboard. The _Excalibur _was almost five hundred years old, the oldest airship still flying. It was a warship that had turned commercial passenger ship, admittedly, it only admitted passage to those of a certain calibre If she attempted to board the ship as she was, a scrappy looking woman with more money than clothes, she had no doubt that she would be arrested on the spot for solicitation.

It wasn't all that uncommon for women, prostitutes, to buy passage on a ship and make a killing by _servicing_ her fellow passengers and the crew.

She made her way through the town, getting steadily more annoyed but the three foot radius around her. She stashed her scythe and her heavy boots behind the first dress shop she encountered before pushing open the door. The bells to alert the shop assistants of potential customers tinkled gently.

The assistants rushed, but paused as if there was an actual physical barrier between her and them. In other words they didn't enter the three foot radius. Maka took a second to mourn her dignity before opening her mouth and wailing loudly. She dredged up her worst memories and began bawling, tears running down her face and everything. It wasn't easy to say the least, but it did the trick.

The impenetrable force field disintegrated and the shop assistants mobbed her, pressing dainty silk handkerchiefs into her hands and dabbing at her eyes and making vague cooing noises and patting her back and they ushered her to an overstuffed cushy armchair and sat her down gently.

"Oh pet, what happened to you at all at all?" Maka allowed the over loud sobs to dwindle to over loud hiccoughs and took the delicate china cup of tea that was offer. It was sweet and milky, exactly the opposite of how she liked her tea, but good she supposed for sobbing young girls in dress shops.

"It was-_hic_- that awful ship-_hic_- and they-_hic_-but that boy saved us-_hic_- even divided out the money on board-_hic_-and I thought that it was okay then-_hic_- I thought I could go home-_hic_-everyone was staring-_hic_- I just want to go _home!" _ She howled into the borrowed handkerchief. One assistant had the presence of mind to move the cup of tea to a nearby table lest she upset the scalding liquid all over herself thus adding to her woes.

"Oh petal, we'll get you sorted out dear don't you worry your pretty little head about it," Maka had half expected her to clap her hand and say '_Ladies!_' and for the other three girls to scuttle around like mice. However, Maka quickly discovered that the girls didn't need a motivational clap to get them scurrying.

"Normally, dear," the matronly manager said, pressing the cup of tea once more into her hands, "We wouldn't even consider selling anything pre-made, no it's all custom made to size based on designs we have the girls model. We see what we can do with the stock I normally have the girls model. You're only a little smaller than Denise after all," She smiled brightly, and also a little patronizingly.. "Oh, and we'll get you sorted with some night things and a little case and everything you need to spend a few days on your way home. You won't go short of anything on our watch,"

Maka was surprised to find herself enjoying the next two hours she spent in the shop. The girls fussed over, complimented her petite figure- which was a nice change in comparison to Soul, even if she did look like a grease monkey most of the time- and were in absolute awe of her tiny feet. They rubbed sweet smelling oil into her calloused hands, and afterwards her hands felt softer than they had in years. They helped her gently in and out of the heavy dresses, quickly doing the buttons that Maka normally had to either grapple with herself or just leave undone.

Maka left the shop decked in crimson and black striped silk- 'Don't worry about cost, dear, the design is very hard to budge, we were going to give it up as a lost cause very soon, but don't you just glow in these colours', if she was glowing at all, it was a blush caused by the fact she was wearing Soul's favourite colours- her corset was laced fashionably tight- 'You hardly need it dear," and a small suitcase containing some undergarments, a nightgown, an expensive smelling vanilla soap and a bottle of the oil that had made her hands so soft.

Maka had tried to pay, but the woman wouldn't hear of it. She'd need the money if the only ship home was the _Excalibur, _and there wouldn't be another ship headed that way for at least another week. Maka thanked her sincerely, if she was a little short of breathe- she'd forgotten how constricting a corset could be.

She collected her scythe and boots from the back of the shop, giving the blade of the deadly weapon a quick polish when she noticed that it happened to match her dress. she wondered if she was going to start a trend.

The Excalibur was easy to find, it dwarfed its neighbouring ships. She- no he, the _Excalibur _was most definitely a he, was if not the fastest ship in the sky, certainly famous for both its luxury and historical significance. The _Excalibur _was the first airship built in the Second Age of Flight, and as far as Maka could recall, the engine had recently been completely rebuilt and the airship itself otherwise restored by Academy student Hiro Shimono**. Hiro's father had purchased it as a project for his son, but nobody had actually expected the ship to ever actually fly again.

It would be expensive, but she could afford it, thanks to the generousity of the dress shop and the captain of the _Niddhogg_, especially if she skipped a meal here and there.

It was grand and enormous and unfortunately had a reputation for being terribly slow-there was only so much that Shimono boy could do after all-, this old warship turned luxury passenger ship and valuable cargo hauler-still armed to the teeth because of how tempting it could be to raiders and pirates.

Maka waltzed aboard like she belonged there, although truth be told even in her old life she'd never have belonged. unless she'd married above her station. which was extremely unlikely, being a bastard made your station very low indeed. Although she supposed that she might've married Soul. She found that she could afford second class, in the absense of any third class at all, and still have enough money to make her way to the small vilage she called home now.

It was as much a home as anywhere not in the sky could be.

* * *

Soul paced the hallway like Maka would be home any minute, and attempted to peer through the frosted glass in the front door, like Maka wouldn't slam the door open and storm in, demanding to see her 'baby' without so much as a by-your-leave. Soul didn't often have to wait for Maka to come home, she didn't like leaving the house, except to give the occasional engineer class at the school she was patron of. Secrecy had a high price. Nor was Soul all that used to being more than a mile from her for any longer than it took to do the shopping.

He'd been spending more time in the engine room when she was working, chatting and annoying her and only leaving when her temper was so frayed that he became concerned for the safety of his cranium.

For a smart girl, Maka could be pretty stupid a lot of the time. They should've just ditched the _Niddhogg_ the _Beelzebub _was more than qualified to handle that situation, for one it was the only Shibusen ship with female crew member that could've coaxed and comforted those poor women way better than a skinny boy with a deadly weapon. He suspected she would've left the Beelzebub to deal with the _Niddhogg_ if not for her father and whatever damn hero complex she had going on. It wasn't her job to save everyone, and they certainly weren't paid enough for her to risk her life-!

In that moment, it didn't matter to Soul that Maka and him weren't actually paid at all. It was the principle of the thing and if he had to deal with his best friend charging headfirst, being too damn reckless at every opportunity she got. That flat-chested bookworm was going to give a coronary.

Didn't she know how worried he was? Didn't she realize how uncool this _entire fucking situation was!? _Their limited frequency had been hacked- something that only a handful of individuals could handle, of course they cornered by the ship with Tsubaki Nakatsukasa on it- and Maka's creepy asshole father ad recognized then, their voices and their _fucking_ names.

But instead of ducking smoothly and pretending like she had no idea who the hell Spirit was, she'd given the game away! He was so pissed off, even though a part of him understood how taken by surprise Maka had been when confronted by a part of her old life. A part she particularly hated and that had eventually pushed her to run away. He was still going to kill her though, just as soon as he'd made sure she was alive safe inside these four walls, he was going to murder her.

To top everything off, one of the locals had come around informed him of the curious strangers who'd dropped in, inquiring after the _Ghost. _Stranger that had been promptly lied to.

The village knew who Maka and Soul were, but this tiny village, barely more than three hundred people, all of whom know each other by both name, and residence and all of whom are in awe of Soul and Maka. Soul and Maka had driven out the gang that for some unknown reason decided that a village with a population less than the average public school was a good place to hold gang-related activities and demand money.

It had been another case of Maka's damn hero-complex and reckless behavior, one of the only times it turned out to their advantage.

They'd been living on the _Ghost _for about six months- not living conditions Soul ever wanted to repeat, if anyone cared to ask- and they'd stopped for repairs. Flying the airship was hard in the early days, playing the piano, or in the case the organ had been a source of consternation almost Soul's entire life. It'd taken him about a year to realize that he didn't have to care what anyone thought of his playing anymore, and Maka praised it enough to restore confidence. But they'd both walked into town, to grab some food and stock up, when Maka'd been halted by a greasy looking man who'd reminded her a whole lot of her father.

She wasn't alone, but Soul and Maka were, the other inhabitants of the village closed their windows and tried to discreetly hide, but it was obvious that they were terrified and that they weren't going to help.

"Where you goin' sweetheart? I don't recognize your pretty face. Why don't you ditch the freakshow there and we get ourselves a little better acquainted?" He spoke with absolute confidence and Soul's blood boiled. His wasn't the only boil to, a bright angry blush rose in Maka's cheeks and she slapped the greasy man's hand away from her. He growled, low and his expression changed from creepy to angry. He'd lunged, and Maka had beaten the crap out of him with the help of her new favourite thing to hit Soul with- a heavy iron wrench.

His friends had been happy to stand by as the boldest of them got the crap knocked out of their leader or whatever. It had been Soul and Maka against twenty of the toughest assholes they'd ever encountered outside an illegal port. The villagers might act like they were eternally grateful, but really Soul was glad that they'd remembered at that moment that those gang members were human too, and that now was a good time to break out the torches and pitchforks.

_If you can make god bleed, people will cease to believe in Him.***_

Okay, it was the middle of the day, so there were no actual torches, but there was a guy with like fifty swords, a dumpy woman with a frying pan and a butcher who remembered that cleavers scare the crap out of almost everyone when wielded by large bloodstained men. It didn't take long for the bloodlust to spread, for which Soul was grateful. Maka might be able to take on one guy with nothing more then a wrench, but twenty something? He was glad that the group of people armed mostly with not quite weapons arrived when they did, and chased the gang out when they did, with only a single fatality.

After that, Maka and Soul had also single-handed kept the small, newly liberated town afloat. They'd opened a school in the out gang hangout, they paid the teachers(all three of them) and the caretaker and they paid for all the supplies.

They'd done a whole lot of good without asking too much in return, just a little privacy and someone to kept their secrets. Unfortunately that meant that strangers were often met with open hostility nowadays, but you couldn't have everything.

It had become so in the nearly three year they had lived here, even if they still spent most of their time in the open air- Maka wasn't at home anywhere but the sky unfortunately. IT was an unwritten law and an unspoken promise.

Angela and Mifune, previously referred to as the guy with like fifty swords, had noticed the return of the _Ghost,_ and stopped by to check on the town heroes.

"Soul! What adventures were you on this time!" Angela pleaded, and Soul ruffled her hair kind of affectionately, but also in a slightly 'I think this gesture shows affection but I am not really sure, oh god I hope I don't scare this small child' way. Soul told the story watering down the details but carefully emphasizing words to let Mifune know the whole story

"You split up? Why?"

"Well the _Niddhogg _was carrying some _very precious cargo, _and we need to take it all, but it definitely couldn't fit on our tiny ship. So Maka had to pilot the _Niddhogg,"_

_"_That's silly, you're the pilot Soul, not Maka!" She giggled, "But why not bring it here."

"The _Niddhogg's _too big to land without a port of some kind, besides, we needed to return the cargo to who it belonged to." Soul's falsely cheery expression drooped

"But your pirates! You're apposed to take what's not yours!"

"Angela, we only bring about a quarter of what we steal back here, and that cargo really needed to get to a safe place, before headed back were it belonged. It still wasn't cool of Maka though, splitting up like that. I'm very worried about her."

"Because you love her!" Angela chirped, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because she's my very best friend in the entire world," Soul corrected, blushing as bright as his eyes.

But they'd never been in as much of a mess before, and Soul had never been as worried.

*** The Guardians of the Peace or 'An Garda Síochána' locally referred as the guards, Irish Law Enforcment or police**

**** The voice actor of Hiro in the Japanese anime shares the same first name as his character, so...**

*****Yay for plagiarizing Iron Man 2!**

**This was going to be longer, but then I looked at the word count and said no! It will be too long if I add another five pages! So... sorry about that.**

**Can anyone explain to me why smutty fics are sometimes called lemons? Because I have no idea whatsoever. You know what are almost never fun? Lemons.**

**You know what is fun? Sex. So I've heard. There will be no smut in this fic, because I don't want to lead anyone on I am saying it now. Does anyone know any good Soul Eater writers? Because I have not been part of this fandom nearly long enough.**

**Constructive crits are welcome. You can flame if you absolutely must, but I'll probably hate you for ever and my self esteem will be crushed. Nah, I'm just kidding(please don't hurt my feelings). But yes, constructive crits are always one hundred percent welcome. **


	6. Chapter 6

**I must thank that random Guest who said they might try fanart because omigod a compliment of a higher order could not be paid. Art is HARD. And it HURTS, I mean I drew the current covery thing, but that's just Maka and Jack Frost and a bit of Sophie's skirt. Mostly out of focus. I'M IN A TYPING MOOD AGAIN.**

**Except I think that eff-all happens in this chapter. Some fluff. So sorry about that. I am absetively ploughing through the manga at the moment, so yay about that.**

"I nee- I'd like to see the engine." Her tone was polite, but firm. Not only was this ship going far too slowly but she's having trouble adjusting to her persona.

"But miss there's-" Maka cut him off, but she did wonder what his reasons were,

"I said, that I would like to see the engine."

"Very well," The porter inclined his head and gestured for her to go ahead. Maka smiled smugly, she knew exactly were the engine was, but one did not appear unannounced to the engine room. Also...

"I think it would be more prudent if you lead the way," She said pointedly. The porter nodded and led her silently to a part of the ship that was both uglier and more beautiful, to the vast engine made of gleaming bronze, brass and copper*. It was so enchanting that the two engineers seated at the base laying cards escaped her notice for almost a minute.

"I can find my own way back" She informed the porter, dismissing him. It was only at this point did the engineers notice her, and notice her they did.

The engineers stared, unsure of how to react to the situation they found themselves in. Regularly enough, young men of a high calibre- amateurs, hobbyists and idiots- thought that they knew better, despite the fact that they were the trained professionals, with the neatly framed degrees to prove it. They tut and inspect and tut some more, make drawings and assumptions, but never ask questions. They simply couldn't bring themselves to it. But never before had a young lady- unheard of.

After her initial awe wore off, a critical gleam entered her olive green eyes that was matched by a hard focus.

"Would you like me to explai-" Maka held up a hand imperiously, she was concentrating.

"No need for that, yet." The _Excalibur's _soul was old and confused, whispering snippets of conflicting stories. It was pompous, and it would be almost endearing, if it hadn't been so incredibly annoying. Maka needed to investigate for herself. She moved closer to the enormous engine and scanned it- it was easy to see these were excellent at their job. She sighed.

"Are you okay, miss?"

" No. Your engine is running perfectly, but this airship is still too damn slow, nothing to be done-" The men can see the idea gleam behind her focused green eyes, a bright flash, and suddenly a broad, real and un-genteel smile splits her imperious facade. She pats herself down, clearly searching for a pen. "Do you have any paper?"

One of the engineers fumbled with his notebook, shoving a battered green notebook at her which she flipped open to a new page as fast as anything. Her hand scrabbled for the stubby pencil the second engineer gives her. Maka sat herself primly on a box of spare parts and started sketching because you couldn't be anything but prim and proper in a corset with ivory boning that was laced a bit too tightly. Her broad smile shrank to ghostly remnant of what it was- faintly curling upward at the corners, punctuated by her teeth nibbling on her lower lip occasionally.

She handed the engineer his notebook with a triumphant flourish. He frowned at the page.

"Try this," She advised. "I'd do it myself but I have appearances to keep up, and unfortunately I'm not dressed right for the occasion."

He stared at the notebook. He stared at her. her stared at the engine, mentally slotting her design into place. He stared at her some more. "This is... this is bloody _brilliant. _I've never seen anything like it before. " But it'll work like a freakin' charm and he can see that.

"Really?" She's well chuffed with herself and she did kind of a shuffle that might've been sitting up straighter if her back wasn't already ramrod straight due to be corset. "Can I stay done here for a while? I won't be in the way or anything, I just don't have the patience to deal with those pompous- I mean the other passengers, right now. I just need to get back,"

"Explain to me how you do this- " he could be referring to like, assembly instructions or it could be her general thought process he's talking about, Maka couldn't be sure. "- while we deal you into the next hand."

"What are we playing?" Maka inquired, dragging her rather heavy box of spare parts over to perch primly on once again.

"Whatever the hell you want, miss."

Maka laughed, loudly and unladylike, and told themselves whatever they were playing before would be fine.

* * *

The connection was crap and the image flickered in and out of sync with the conversation, and the sound occasionally cut of. The _Beelzebub's_ direct live link with the Academy was poor at best.

"Father? Father, can you hear me?" His father nodded over-expressively. "I have some good news and unfortunately some bad news."

His father frowned, but didn't speak- this type of tenuous connection meant that noise could only transfer one direction at once, requiring that a button be held while one person spoke.

"The _Ghost _is very much a real ship, and the rumours are hardly exaggerated at all- the airship is approximately half the size of the _Beelzebub _and she's crewed by an impressive duo, who we identified thanks to Spirit Albarn," He had been slightly useful after all, " His wayward daughter Maka Albarn, who at this juncture we have reason to believe built the _Ghost _and is piloted by Soul Evans, of the famous family of musicians. He dropped out of Shibusen early, very early in my first year and is the reason we have the 'Evans Auditorium'." His father frowned once more and raised his hand, slightly self-deprecating, it was nevertheless an effective signal to transfer sound. Kidd released the button.

"The demon pilot?" Kidd raised his hand, waited for the sound channel to open- a small red light flashed green- and pressed the button.

"He's an albino. You must remember him- the snow white hair, the red eyes and his teeth were positively fangs." His father tapped his chin pensively, and then used his index fingers to make little fangs, a silent inquiry to whether or not he had heard right. Kidd nodded, and his father frowned a moment before nodding brightly. For the leader of the largest airship organisation and most renowned pilot school in the world, Kidd's father could be extremely childish on occasion. Kidd was also surprised that he didn't remember the sullen teenager whose parents had made at least one sizable donation to the Academy.

"They boarded and successfully took the _Niddhogg _a impressive feat by anyone's standards liberating the twenty-three women held prisoner aboard."

His father, not eager to interrupt the story, and well aware that too many sound transfers can break the connection, held up a sheet of his personalized stationary onto which he had written in large, neat capitals: 'IF THAT WAS THE GOOD NEWS, WHAT WAS THE BAD NEWS?' he also added, in all his wisdom a smiley face.

"We lost the trial, and the _Niddhogg _got to Moher Cliff port hours before us- I didn't realize it could travel so fast. Moher Cliff was extremely crowded and the local enforcement, the Guardians, have been unable to apprehend her. It's extremely likely that she has left the port by now. The forewarned port officials and the Guardians searched the ship and arrested the entire crew, who had been locked in their own cargo hold by Maka and the other women. None of the women aboard matched Maka Albarn's description and they are adamant that a young boy saved them."

Once again, a written message: 'MAKA GOT AWAY- AND THE 'GHOST'?'

"Unfortunately the airship and pilot escaped also."

His father sighed heavily then smiled, he held up his hand and Kidd transferred the sound.

"You and your ...crew have done admirably Kidd. Keep up the good work son!"

The sound channel opened again but Kidd only managed to salute and thank his father for the compliment before the connection cut. Tsubaki and Spirit breathed heavy sighs of relief and Kidd sat himself down, exhausted by the brief conversation.

"What do we do now?"

"Tsubaki, I need every port on alert for Maka Albarn and Soul Evans," He straightened his chair, his spine becoming a rod of steel right before their eyes. There was no time for weakness, he could relax when he slept, even if he wasn't actually getting too much of that lately.

* * *

It was late when Maka opened the door to the house she and Soul shared on the outskirts of the village.

"Soul?" She called, not very loudly, in case he was sleeping. In which case, she could've shouted as loud as she wanted because it took a heck of a lot to wake Soul. She allowed her scythe and case to clatter to the floor.

In the kitchen Soul shot upright his blurry eyes focusing rapidly- he'd been on the verge of falling asleep on the newspaper he'd stopping being able to read clearly almost twenty minutes ago. It fluttered to the floor the pages separating and Soul nearly slipped on the headlines-the capture of the _Niddhogg _accompanied by very few concrete details about how it arrived at Moher Cliffs- in his haste to confirm that Maka had arrived safely home.

"Maka!" Soul pulled his best friend into his arms, hugging her tightly. She barely managed to wrap her arms around him, intending to return the gesture, but he pushed her again, maintaining a too-tight grip on her upper arms as he studied her. He inspected her for injuries, and began matching her feature up with the one etched in his mind. She was clad in a bruised looking crimson and black striped dress-his favourite colours- and there were deep shadows under eyes. She smiled at him.

"I'm okay, Soul." Her eyes were scanning his face aswell, he noticed, "I promise." So soul pulled her close to him again, hugging her properly this time, without risk of asphyxiation. His familiar scent enveloped her.

"I was so worried about you. It wasn't cool Maka and if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I swear to God I will personally-"

"Glad to see you too Soul," Maka interrupted before Soul could threaten her airship. She wrapped her arms around him. It had been a long trip home. They stood there for a moment, before they let go of each other and stepped back.

"If you'll excuse me, Soul, I am absolutely done with this dress, I haven't been able to bend over in two days. A sloucher like yourself would've been driven to madness a long time ago." Maka wanted nothing more than to be able to take enormous lungfuls of air with ease.

"I think you look beautiful." There was a nervous honesty in Soul's voice that embarrassed Maka. Despite her blush she managed to brush off the comment with a sort of a joke.

"You're just glad to see me alive and well, Soul." She didn't look back to see his reaction. She didn't didn't know what she wanted to see in his expression, but she did know that she didn't wanted to be disappointed by what she did find there. She hurried to her room, the master bedroom, and changes into an old night-dress. She think that this may have been sky blue once, and maybe that's why she liked it, but now it's a dull grey and quite short from the time she ripped strips off the end to bandage Soul's hand when he cut it on a broken milk bottle. It's a dress she can function in, one that gives her more options than sit and play cards with engineers. Even if it was technically pajamas.

She entered the kitchen barefoot.

"There's the grease-monkey I know and love, you know, I wasn't actually certain that was you until just there now," There was the smirk she'd missed so much, Soul's jokes that were thinly veiled insults but made her smile when they didn't make want to hit him.

"Well, who can resist the charms of a lady showing a scandalous amount of leg?" Maka sat down and Soul placed a sandwich and a glass of water before her with a flourish. Soul always knew when she needed food, even if his culinary expertise didn't stretch beyond sandwiches and pancakes.

He watched he eat in silence, and then then both went to their separate bedrooms.

* * *

It was the worst kind of nightmare, the one that dredges up your worst memories and deepest fears and changes them in the only possible way, the way you hadn't even considered thinking about, and makes them even worse than you believed you could imagine. It was the kind that leaves you drenched in sweat and tangled in your blankets and you feel as though you a suffocating.

She was on a raid, not one of the first, but she's nowhere near as seasoned as she is now. It's an airship with a bad reputation, one of the worst her and Soul will ever encounter, right up to the day they raid the _Niddhogg._ It's the infamous_ Ragnarok. _

She can feel it's soul, ugly and greedy and corrupting. It's causing her pain that might be physical or psychosomatic to link with this soul. But it didn't matter whether or not it's all in her head. Pain is pain, and hurts, real or imagined. This soul is loud and angry and completely messed up and it all makes her want to set the ship on fire because she didn't think there was any kind of redemption for a soul this... evil. It's clouding her thoughts with darkness the longer they are linked. It scared her, this insanity that seemed to be creeping into her soul.

It was a timid footstep, but it was all it took her dark soul to turn and slice the deadly weapon, her scythe through the air. It whistled, the first time she ever moved it fast enough to make a sound like the blade is cutting through the air.

_Blood. _

It tinges her vision red, this liquid that follows the movement of the scythe through the air. It splattered, on the walls, _on her, _and it pools of the wooden floor board. He was just a boy. No older than her, with hair that must've been white or pale blond because nobody has pink hair that's just the red seeping into in her vision. The body fell like a puppet with its strings cut. Suddenly and just as dramatic and surprising as you'd expect.

The_ Ragnarok's _soul devouring the dying remnants of the boy's and because they are linked, so does hers. She thought maybe a part of her would be able to hold onto the being of the boy, but... her nothing. It's then that she learned that souls carry no memories or personality, those reside in the body.

She bent the flip the body and close his eyes, windows to a soul that is now a part of hers. Even if she could not hear him, it will make her stronger. She will not forget. There was nothing else to do. She did not cry then over this stranger, the _Ragnarok's _evil soul lent her strength in this moment, she is not used to death but this airship is, strength she will lose when she returns to her airship, at which point she will start sobbing. But not now.

She flipped the body over and Soul's dead red eyes stare up at her like an accusation. This was the point that is too much, and Maka's subconscious cannot support her grief and distress in the reality she remembers and everything falls to pieces.

_Falling._

_She is falling._

_"Ow!" _Maka sat up with some difficult she is tangled in her bed clothes on the floor, and she kicks them away in disgust and rubs her hands on the thighs. None of the blood she expected transfers. Her hands are at least, physically clean.

She crept, unnecessarily because Soul sleeps like a rock, only roused by heavy textbooks to the head and the sound or breakfast being made for him, across the hall. The door to Soul's room opened soundlessly.

He was lying there sleeping peacefully, and judging by the half smile-not a smirk- teasing his lips and string of drool his dreams are not nearly as awful as hers. He was breathing deeply and evenly, as sure a sign as any that he is alive, contrary to her nightmare. She's instantly relieved and turns to leave. She can rest easier now, although not as easy as Soul; judging by the smile.

"Maka? What are you doing?" His speech was slurred and Maka stepped back in shock- this of all thin gs is what wakes him?

"Just, you know, checking in on you," She said somewhat lamely, even if it was mostly the truth. His confused face softened at her quite voice and uncharacteristically vulnerable expression.

"C'mere," Maka crossed the floor hesitantly as Soul sits up. She stood there, only perching on the edge of his bed when he patted it rather forcefully, the international invitation for 'sit here'. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest, over his heart. And actually over his heart, because it seemed to him about ninety-five percent of the population never get it right. He ignored how cold her fingers have become in the short space of time she's been out of bed.

She could feel his deep breathe and his regular heartbeat drumming at her palm.

"I'm fine Maka. You have nothing to worry about it,"

"I know, I just-" She'd never told him about the nightmares of that boy, the fact she's haunted by the fragments of a soul that can't tell her anything about the boy she killed. _The boy she murdered._

She can feel the remnants of his soul nestled alongside hers. There are a lot of things Soul doesn't know.

How scared she is he will die, and that it will be her fault. She's the reason he's on this ship. He could be piloting a real airship with a license and a crew that doesn't abuse him and do cargo runs and not risk his life regularly to satisfy her thirst for adventure. He might even had a wife and a family, instead of just her. Just a best friend.

Her hand traced a line diagonally across Soul's chest, exactly where she sliced open that boy almost two years ago.

Soul started. Maka had described to him what happened, not in any great detail, she been too busy sobbing and trying to rub blood off her hands but she did trace that very same line once, just once before and Soul puts it all together because he knows Maka and all at once he knew the contents of her nightmare.

He pulled back the sheets and she paled, about to bolt like a frightened rabbit when he chuckled.

"Maka, I'm not you're Dad, and anyway- is it really so uncommon for a married couple to share a bed?" Soul teased.

Maka frowned at him, at the space he'd created for her and eventually made up her mind and clambered in before she could change her mind lying down on her side to face him. He threw the blanket over her, and they fell asleep quickly, facing each other.

***I know that in steampunk all the metal that exists seems to be copper, but I think that copper loses heat too easily for a steam-anything. But I couldn't just leave it out. It's a good conductor though... so basically the ingredients of this engine are copper, tin and zinc.**

**Okay it's a quarter past tomorrow and I need some sleep, so please do review(log in if you can, I like replying and stalking your pages) Also does anyone have any summary suggestions, because to be honest I am so crap at them it is not even a little bit funny.**

**I am so tired that I cannot be held accountable for typos but please point any out anyway, because I am sure there are loads.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ah, okay, Maths Paper one today did not make me cry. I held my shit together and for that, I will type for the entire Imagine Dragons album. And maybe some OneRepublic after that, or Ben Howard... Mumford's always good for typing to.**

**(I have the most standard taste in music I have ever encountered)**

**Mostly filler, may contain useful information. May also just be a social experiment.**

"She's not going to return my message. " Spirit insisted rather miserably. " She hates me. She never returns my messages."

"I'm sure she doesn't." Tsubaki reassured him, although she felt extremely doubtful of that fact. He was an asshole, and the neediest man she'd ever met. If Kami somehow managed not to hate the husband she avoided like he was the plague*, she was... Maybe she was still in love with him, despite the hurt he caused. That would explain it, you don't run from what you hate, you yell and shout and let the object of your hatred know without a doubt that you hate them, because that was human nature.

"Spirit," Black*Star cut across Tsubaki's attempts at gentle persuasion with all his use subtlety and tack. That is to say, none. "I know you'll never be a _god _like me, but I'm sure you can at least man up and grow a pair enough to message your wife!"

Spirit steeled himself by taking a swig from the flask of whiskey offered to him by Liz. Liz nearly always carried alcohol on her person somewhere.

"Okay, Tsubaki, I'm ready." Spirit nodded and Tsubaki turned on the recording device. This needed to arrived swiftly ad most importantly, it needed to arrive intact. The risk of data loss with sound alone was significantly lower than sound and image together.

"Intended Destination; Gotham Airyard**. High Priority. Shibusen Airship, _Niddhogg;_ Captain Death. Speaking;Tsubaki Nakatsukasa and-"

"Spirit Albarn"

"To be delivered ASAP to Kami Albarn. Impress upon her the importance of an immediate response and inform that all cost will be picked up by the Academy," Messaging was expensive. There was a momentary pause before Spirit cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Uh, Kami? It's me, uh, Spirit. I know you don't normally respond to my messages, but... it's about Maka. I know she still writes to you. I haven't heard for her recently and I need you to know that she's in trouble. More trouble than I can begin to describe. Listen, I need you to message if you hear anything from her. It's possible that she might turn to you if she's scared or stuck or... you always were her hero, and just... please? Can you this thing for me?"

Spirit fell back, the brief message had taken it out of him. He waved at Tsubaki to indicate that his part in the message was over.

"End message." Tsuabki finished the recording and played it back to herself through her headphones. Spirit might be annoying, but she saw no reason to make the man live through that again. She was grateful when she was able to confirm that all sound had been recorded clearly, and sent the message to Gotham Airyard's Communications tower.

"We aren't going to find them unless they go up and we're extremely lucky, are we?" Tsubaki asked quietly, but not so quietly that she couldn't be heard, she was sure.

In any case, nobody answered and Kidd changed the subject as much as he could.

"Has anyone heard from Black*Star or Hire in a while?" It was not unusual fro Hiro to act the recluse for several days, but this sort of behavior was positively unheard from Black*Star.

Tsubaki shook her head, not daring to repeat her question.

"I've barely seen them since you told them to figure out how the _Ghost_ flies." She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Hiro's just curious and Black*Star-"

"The 'Almighty' Black*Star's too 'big' to allow himself be surpassed by another engineer," Liz estimated accurately, drawing a grim smile from Kidd.

"We _are _going to find them," Kidd muttered. "They can't run forever."

* * *

When Maka woke up alone in Soul's bed, she curled deeper into the bedclothes blushing a bright red- had she really spent the rest of the night here? It seemed so stupid now, stupid and childish. She was blushing furiously as she darted across the hallway to her own room, eager to get dressed in clothes, that although normally scandalously revealing, did not make her feel as exposed as her nightgown.**  
**

Suspecting that the _Ghost _needed her, Maka dressed in a hurry, digging in her much abused wardrobe for clothes designed for working in. Namely, men's clothes, and more specifically, old clothes of Soul's. An old shirt of his that his broadening shoulders had ripped one day, clumsily mended by Maka who did not have the same skills with needlework as she did with mechanics and trousers, also Soul's once upon a time. She pulled on her heavy boots and left the room, heading towards the kitchen._  
_

Soul was in the kitchen mixing pancake batter like the good fake husband he was when Maka poked her head in. Neither of them were able to hide the worry that was creeping in around the edge of their eyes.

"Pancake?" Soul offered, adding butter to the long handled skillet that was designed for open fire cooking.

"Yes, please." Maka answered, hurrying to avoid his eyes as he ladled a generous portion of the smooth mixture on the pan. She focused on watching his hands.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" Soul's voice lacked all the usual arrogance. He only dropped his cool facade when he was really worried about, which she had to admit was starting to seem like most of the time lately.

"I had a nightmare Soul, that's all."

"Bullshit. You don't come crying to me every time you have a nightmare." Soul turned his attention to the pancake checking the underside to see if it was done. "It wasn't your fault you know."

_It was. Soul could say it a thousand times, but... that didn't change anything. _

"We aren't going to talk about this now. We have bigger problems." Soul flipped the pancake with a practised ease, the frown on his face nothing to do with Maka's breakfast..

"They'll never catch us. Nobody ever has." The cocky tone she was used to slipped back into his voice.

"Soul, you know as well as I do that that doesn't mean nobody ever will." Maka pulled her hair into a single ponytail at the back of her head. It was easier to work with it absolutely out of her way. "Besides, nobody was ever looking for us before."

"Eat your breakfast." Soul shoved the plate in front of her with a mismatched knife and fork. Maka spread butter and sprinkled sugar on her pancake, before eating it with the provided cutlery.

"Maka, I was researching the _Beelzebub _while you were... travelling. and it's nothing we can't handle." Soul was of the opinion there was anything out there they couldn't handle. Maka wasn't in possession of the same conviction. He shrugged. "The best pilots in the world run the smuggler's route, you know that, and we've faced the best of the best." Soul loaded his pancake with honey and rolled it up.

"Well, besides Papa, who've they got?"

"The pilot is Death the Kidd, Lord Death's son- first in the Academy, blah, blah, blah." There was hint of envy in his voice, but Maka at least knew that Soul would've been first if she hadn't dragged him away to pilot the _Ghost. " He's_ got the regulation two engineers, some 'big man' called Black*Star and Hiro Something-Or-Other- you know, that guy who restored the _Excalibur _on communications they have Tsubaki Nakatsukasa***- that chick hacked our limited frequency, something only like four people in the world can do and an artillery team consisting of the Thompson Sisters,"

Maka gave him a long look before chewing and swallowing her mouthful of pancake. She'd abandoned a lot of her old life but table manners was a thing sHe'd held onto. Unlike Soul.

"Soul," She said gently. "We always knew we couldn't do this forever."

"You've never given up..." Soul was shell-shocked, but recovered quickly. "You did promise me one thing though."

"What was that?"

"That we'd go out in style." He grinned at her, and Maka stood up and stretched.

"Well, _duh, _Soul." She smiled back at him. "I'm going to check on the _Ghost"_

"I got her home in one piece," Soul cried indignantly.

"I'll be the judge of that."

Soul spent the rest of the day sitting on the floor of the engine room, handing Maka tools when her recognized whatever it was she demanded, and pestering her about her nightmare.

He doesn't really remember what happened, he'd been too sleep stupid and bleary eyed. What he did recall though, was her hollow eyes and the way his heartbeat had ratcheted when she dragged her hand across the wound that wasn't even on his chest. It hadn't hurt him, but it had hurt, her sobs and broken spirit in the weeks after the actual event, when she's slipped into a funk that he couldn't get her out of. She just snapped out of it one day, or so he thought.

He was sickened at his selfishness when he'd been so glad to seen her sleeping peacefully across from him, like she might've in another life.

He recalled the one kiss they shared. He'd surprised himself, and her too, no doubt. She'd kissed him back though, even if it was just for a second. Would she do the same today, if he tried to kiss her? Would her lips still be soft as he remembered. She'd probably brain him with a wrench afterwards, but it would be worth it.

Soul was dragged reluctantly out of his daydreams by Maka's demands for a vice-grip****-something he did recognize.

**Very short, not even going to bother sending this to my lovely new beta, but I promise-shit will go down in the next chapter.**

***I don't actually like that phrase, I don't know anyone who actively avoids the plague these days. Does the plague(The ****_actual _****Black Death) even exist anymore?**

**** I've been watching a lot of Batman lately.**

***** This is the first time I spelled her second name without the assistance of Google. It may very probably be incorrect.**

******This is the only tool I own(unless you could the family hacksaw and the craft hot glue gun) and I mostly use it to fight ghosts and open ifficult marker lids.**

**Hey guys, I know I normally beg for constructive criticism-I live for that shit- but this time could you please, please instead look up The Little Smoke on Youtube? They are absolutely amazing and deserve shit-tons of support. (Also the bassist is a cousin of a close friend of mine and the few times I've met him, he has been an absolute gentleman, and you can just be all like, pfft, I knew those guys when they were so underground that I got recommended them by like their stepcousin.)**

**Or alternatively I'll give a prize to anyone who figures out what I drew for Jazzie560 for her birthday on tumblr(by a prize I mean a request).**

**Or you can suggest to me some good music.**

**Slán!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, I am on my holidays yay! All my exams are done! I finally figured out the end! (Shit is gonna hit that fan. Eventually)**

**So excited, gonna have time to work on original stuff and art and sleeping and NEW PUPPY.**

**Dumping youse into the middle of the action. Also, there's a lot of SoMa just floating around this fic for no apparent reason. I wrote this during exam time, like this entire fic was wriiten because I was under exam stress and sometimes I just needed fluffy cute crap _all of the time._**

"We've got them!"

"Maka Albarn! Soul* Evans!" Death the Kidd's voice boomed. Make just laughed and Soul spared a glance to look where she was leaning over his shoulder and grinned broadly. They were probably going to be arrested, but neither of them have had so much fun in long time. Soul put more of Maka into the song he was weaving - the cacophony of harsh notes softened - wishing she understood music but at the same time, glad she didn't. The music was still twisted and strange, still unmistakably his music, but there's an elegant backbone now.

In that situation, the sounds needed to be harsher, sharp and more erratic- the Thompson sister are living up to their name with their excellent aim. Soul focused on different parts of Maka, parts he'd love to hate, the fact she never dresses up for him, only to fool public eyes, and the countless wrenches, hardback books and other things that were not weapons in the original manufacturer's plans that he has received to the skull.

Every single time she blames him for damage received to the _Ghost_ while he was covering _her._

_It'd be nice to be appreciated for a change._

"Bring her in close- I'm going!_" _

"Shit!" Soul pulled the airship away from a blast, but that was a shrapnel bomb. He could hear the shards of metal hitting the solar paneled hull. "Maka, no fucking way are you running on this one!"

" 'Out with a bang'? " Maka quoted. "It's not just you Soul, who needs this."

Soul muttered, but duly moved the _Ghost _in closer and he swore he could feel her leave the ship, move out of the space he could protect her in.

* * *

Maka landed, stumbling slightly as the _Beelzebub _shifted. The hatch isn't locked- it's probably a trap, and Maka couldn't help but wonder if a trap still counts if you go to it willingly, like a lamb to slaughter. She dropped to the floor with the grace associated with experience, she'd done this dozens of times. She'd read that the effects of hormones are slow and long-lasting but that can't be true with the way this adrenaline was running in her veins like silver fire.

It felt like flying, how fast she was running, her heavy boots barely touched the wooden floor. Her soul extended beyond herself and linked with the _Beelzebub's- _it was a male-ish soul, like most airships, despite the popular habit of giving them female pronouns_- _and demanded a single piece of information.

_Where is my father?_

The souls of ship were easy to read, they were so lonely they offer her everything most of the time. She could read them like the books she loved so much, and recognize them just as well. The souls of people are all the same to her- boring and impossible to decipher. They take no individual shapes. It bothers her, in an absent sort of way, that the souls of airships are much more interesting to her than those of people.

Actually, that's not quite true- there's Soul. His soul was one absolutely constant thing, and it's something she could find from anywhere in the world. If she was a compass, he'd be the magnetic north pole. She saw it as it was, and it reflected him, unlike any soul outside an airship she's ever seen. It's dark, and it's twisted, but it's still beautiful and still the soul of her best friend.

She has never seen her soul, and she didn't expect she ever would. She imagined it, though, imagined it was just as unexceptional everyone else's. She could never fly the _Ghost_ the way Soul does, and she built it. She built it with him in mind, but she didn't think that she wouldn't be able to... her airship, and she can't even fly it.

Her father was too stupid to see they hatred burning in her eyes, and he jumped to hug her, like it would make everything okay again. He regretted it almost immediately, when she punched him, a solid right hook an Irishman taught her in a bar in a smugglers' port. The look on his face was worth the pain that exploded in her shoulder.

* * *

"Autosteer. Now. Hover. Or we'll kill you and her," Soul ignored the maniacal giggles that separated each instruction and obeyed the orders, mindful of the cold steel pressed to his skull. Some part of brain noted that if it is cold, it hadn't been fired recently. He had never thought that he'd ever wish for his cranium to be in intimate contact with a wrench, but he did.

As long as it was _her _and she was safe and he should've fucking kissed her. What kind of damn** idiot didn't seize the opportunity before embarking on Mission Suicide-cum-Long Jail Sentence _and fucking kiss the girl***_ . Him, evidently.

They left the _Ghost _hanging unattended in mid-air and cross over to the _Beelzebub. _It was the first time Soul moved to a different airship in mid-air, and he decided pretty quickly that Maka was much braver than he ever realized.

The inside of the _Beelzebub_ was much classier looking than the _Ghost's_ interior, the varnished hardwood paneling and intricate wall sconces remind him of home. The fact that he didn't like this airship was another decision he reached quickly.

He was pushed through a door by a hyperactive and trigger-happy young woman- the younger of the Thompson sisters, he suspected or maybe hoped- dressed in the height of fashion. He managed to stumble on Maka's long, bare legs before hitting his head off the wall opposite. _Who builds a room this ti_- oh. It wasn't a wall at all. It's a crate of medical supplies, judging by the large red cross painted on its side. The _Beelzebub wa_s small, though not even close to as small as the _Ghost, _so they'd been locked in an almost full storeroom.

"Soul! Are you okay?" Maka fussed over him, a rare thing that; but Soul suspected it to be misplaced worry for her airship.

"The _Ghost _is fine. It's set to hover, and they aren't going to be able to move it unless they can tow it somehow." They both knew that the _Beelzebub _wasn't equipped for towing- it was too small. They were probably scratching their heads up there in bafflement.

Maka frowned at Soul, and pressed her fingers gently to his forehead, exactly where it made contact with the crate. It barely hurt, not after years of abuse at her hand. Her gentle touch was, however, alien and managed to have a strange effect on his heartbeat. At this point Soul's eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to notice the dried blood staining Maka's already mutilated dress. It was barely seeping in around the edges of her shoulder, so he guessed the actual wound was on her back.

"Turn around," He ordered. She flinched, comprehended the reason for the order, and was quick to reassure him.

"Soul, it's not that bad I can barely feel it anymore-"

"You acclimatized." She turned so as her back is too him, and he thinks that too much of her has rubbed off on him if he's using words like 'acclimatized' to win arguments. There was anger bubbling in him and he wants to kill whoever did this, but first he's going to deal with it.

It was not the first time Maka's come back injured, not even close, and Soul was forced to learn how to remove bullets and stitch wounds a long time ago. They were lucky, he guessed that this airship was on a medicine run to cover extra cost of the mission. He'd pry that box open with his fingernails if he had to.

He didn't. The lid had been levered open by a crowbar already, probably to check the contents, because Soul doesn't notice anything missing. Or at least, the box seemed pretty full and well organized. He dug in the box and managed to find a sterilized blade, suture kit and boiled bandages. There was no pain medication or any kind of alcohol which they would normally normally use to get Maka drunk enough not to notice the pain and clean the wound. Soul made the decision to remove the bullet, then bandage the wound. There was no point stitching an infection into her body.

"You ready?" Maka undid the hooks and eyes at the front of her dress, and let gravity and Soul do the rest. He pushed the thin straps of her shift down and she gasped when her chest is exposed to the open air. She braced her self against the stack of crates into front of her, and grit her teeth against the fresh pain that wormed its way under her skin as Soul dug the scalpel into her flesh.

The small slug of metal - thank god it had been low calibre - hit the ground with a soft _plink! _and Maka relaxed. There was no gauze pads, so Soul instructed Maka to hold a whole roll of clean bandages against the wound to staunch the bleeding while he grabbed another from the crate. When the blood flow reduced to a mere trickle, Soul maneuvered the second roll up over her shoulder and around her chest again and again; until he needed to use a third roll. Just to make sure. A red stain seeped through the layers.

Maka redressed quickly, and they both slid down the wall of crates to sit on the ground.

"You okay?" Soul asked, somewhat redundantly. Maka didn't bother answering, and Soul can already tell, she's not paying attention to him. The cogs of her brain were working, she was eager to cause as much trouble as she could.

Soul raised his hands, but before he managed to start anything Maka spoke.

"Soul, I need your help." Maka has only admitted she's needed Soul twice in her life before now. Note how she didn't thank him for removing that bullet? " I can get us out of here, but I can't do it without your help."

"Sure, whatever." Soul said, a little sullenly. Cool guys like him are supposed to come to the rescue, not get kidnapped and depend on someone else to come up with the plan.

Maka's hand brushed his and, after a hesitation, (it's the longest aeon, it's the shortest split second) she grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together. Soul's pulse skyrocketed.

"I'm going to try and link my Soul with yours, the same way I link with the ships and the same way you link with the _Ghost _without even realizing it." Maka said. "And then we're going to link with the ship and try and get him to open the damn door."

"Is that even possible?"

"I don't know. I've never tried it before. Can you... hum or something?"

Soul felt completely stupid humming a simple tune while he sat in a storeroom, holding hands with his bandaged best friend. He created a melody out of thin air, and Maka concentrated, squeezing his hand. She closed her eyes, and Soul followed suit. When he opened them, he almost dropped Maka's hand like it burned him.

He'd heard Maka describe souls before, but this was... it was different to the way she'd claimed. Her soul wasn't the dull blob she claimed every human soul to be. It was her soul, her being, and it was beautiful. If describing something as beautiful made him lose a few cool points, then so be it.

It hung in her chest, a shape; a sphere that managed somehow to simultaneously glow and appear translucent, with long elegant and slightly dangerous-looking wings extending outward and twitching gently under his scrutiny. Could something really be said to 'twitch gently'? He tried to touch it, and although he could see his fingers making contact, her soul is not tangible; it was just silver light wrapping around his digits.

He equated the soul he saw with Maka - it was beautiful, and so was she, if not conventionally. Her particular shade of olive green eyes startled him whenever he saw it etched into another face - which was rare, admittedly - her smile lit up his day just like her soul lit up this small dark space. Even though he flew the _Ghost _it was with a lot of her folded into the song.

"Soul? What's wrong?"

"Your soul. It's... just really cool, I guess."

Maka smiled at him, it was meant to be grateful or maybe reassuring but it barely reached her eyes. All her focus was directed at isolating one tiny part of the airship and focusing on asking the ship to open the locked storeroom. He could read the strain on her face - he assumed that she had to block out every other part of the ship.

There was the barest _click! _but it made Soul start a little, as the lock sprung upon of its own volition.

Maka shook her head and let go of his hand to clear her soul perception and pulled herself back into the mundane reality. Her soul disappeared from his view like it was never even there.

"Let's go before they wreck my airship," Maka smiled, shoving open the door. There was a sickening crack as it broke Death the Kidd's nose when it made contact with his unsuspecting face.

***It is interesting to note that for some unknown reason that I think Soul's name was Henry**

**** I can't get over the fact that damn is a bad thing to say in front of small children in some places. That is like my go-to in front of small children.**

***** _It don't take a word, not a single word..._**

**Can anyone tell me how to change ratings cause this one probably needs to go up. I curse enough in my writing. **

**In the first draft of this, even though Maka gets shot and they get thrown into a storeroom of medical supplies, but it did not occur to me to treat her...**

**Please hit me with any questions, criticisms, or other queries you have! You guys should now I live for that shit. **

**Thanks to my lovely beta, GigiandMad, without home there would have been a great deal of spelling mistakes and in one instance just this hashtag just chilling in the middle of the chapter.**

**I have had a tumblr for a while now, so if anyone wants to check out how my brain works, I go by rogha.**

**(It means choice or option in Irish)**

**Slán líbh, a chairde. (Bye with you(plural), friends)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, this next section is going to a bit slow, because there is kind of a thing where I had no idea what I wanted to happen and was just slightly have fun with it and doing a lot of maths inbetween spaces so this may have taken a while. But then all that stuff is actually kind of important. **

**Also I suspect there will just be fluff in this and then some stuff that's boring as balls for most people but that I love.**

**Don't bother direct checking the notes, they are mostly thoughts that occurred to me and have nothing got to do with clarifying anything.**

Soul was seated in his chair, but it was no longer his throne. Normally he could've controlled everything on the _Ghost _from this chair, with the obvious exception of his hot-headed engineer. Everything was different now.

The airship flew nowhere near as elegantly as it normally did, barely chugging along on his 'do whatever it takes to keep Maka safe' song. It was rushed and crude and ugly, punctuated by fear every time that he remembered the gun pointed unwavering at Maka. There was superbly concealed terror in Maka's voice as she whispered barely audible words of encouragement to Soul. She couldn't hide it from Soul though, as she told him to be brave, like the gun wasn't pointed at _her_ head.

Spirit Albarn was still out cold, courtesy of Maka's punch. Liz was training her gun on Maka, who appeared to be getting paler and paler and smaller and smaller. The three of them were crowding the tiny cockpit and a bulky recording device was recording the song he was struggling to create. As if it would help them fly the _Ghost._

No amount of recordings would help the decipher this airship, Maka's baby. They could study that tape a thousand times and never come up with anything more than the fact that Soul was playing terribly right now, much worse that his family had ever anticipated. A final, accidental defiance.

Nobody could fly the _Ghost, _thanks to Maka, and his last broken sonata an ode to his warped and unsatisfactory musical prowess.

The small victories brought a brittle smile to Soul's face, one that didn't even try to meet his eyes.

* * *

The sun hung very low in the sky, the sky bright with the promise of a beautiful sunset on the desert.

The _Ghost _pulled into the harbour, immediately dwarfed by the handful of other ships that filled the small skydock, and looking comically like a child among giants, the long mooring deck extending to the point that the _Ghost _could've fit alongside it thrice if it squeezed.

Soul resisted the almost overwhelming urge to scramble out of his chair and wrap his arms around Maka, like it would accomplish anything. She was just as scared, just as worried and just as nervous. Liz handcuffed them together, and Soul managed to twist his hand to grip hers and their fingers intertwine. The slats didn't creak under their feet as she Liz pushed them off the airship. The skyport is well kept.

Maka wondered why she was bothering to pay attention to all these details, there was only one punishment for piracy and, in her case, murder. The _Beelzebub _pulled into place behind their airship, effectively boxing her in. A simple idea, yet a clever one. Escape options were falling like dominos one at a time but all together. She studied Soul out the corner of her eye. He might've been considered a magnificent catch by the ladies of society, had he not possessed the demon eyes and matching attitude.

He was her best friend, and there is no one she'd rather spend her final hours with. (Although she'd rather they weren't his final hours too.)

Maka squeezed his hand, and in the corner of his eye, Soul saw her soul flicker into being long enough for the barest glance.

_"Soul?" _she asked, but it's more like his name if being spoken in his head and he's assaulted with pictures of him as he was and is and might've been and a tidal wave of emotions like anger and fear and he was overwhelmed with _his own damn name._ There was unmistakably concern and worry and it was like being chopped with his biography - his life in relation to hers - and he could feel the onslaught of a splitting headache. The second pulse that beats to a different rhythm than his own is small and birdlike and maybe fluttering a little too fast?

He shook his head, his hair flopping and thoughts clearing. _Don't be stupid, _he chided himself, _she's scared of course- can she hear this?_

She made no indication, and the boots of the _Beelzebub's_ crew thudded on the deck. They were pushed forward, and someone barked an order Soul doesn't even attempt to hear, his head was pounding. He followed, unmindful of his surroundings and focused on Maka.

_"We'll be okay,"_ Soul yelled at her, in his head and she stumbled a little. This was never going to work, Soul's head was already aching and Maka looked a little dazed, like she'd been hit over the back of the head with a shovel. They came to the unanimous* decision to keep to their own heads as they were led through the Academy taking the most discreet route feasible.**

They are marched down a hallway, past two other men in holding cells (Shibusen has too much damn power in Soul's opinion) who jeer at their fellow fugitives, especially Maka. Her head was thrown back, she was too proud to hold it at any other angle. Soul, however, slouched sullenly. They weren't uncuffed when they're shoved roughly into the small, one-person cell. They probably wouldn't be there long, or else nobody cared.

Still, he'd better do something to raise morale. He got up and pulled Maka up with him. She was too busy worrying about her airship, her hands fretting at her sides, to notice. He suspected that there was nothing to worry about, they'll try to decipher Maka's shelf-fulls of encrypted notebooks and dissect the recording of his broken melody.

He took her fluttering hands in his, stilling them and it's only then that she notices him; that she realized she's standing at all. He moved one hand slowly to his shoulder, the other he held carefully, like it was a bird. She glanced down in surprise at where his hand settled gently on her waist.

"What are you doing?" She asked, blushing furiously.

"Maka, when I'm around there's always music." He grinned like the cocky asshole he was, hoping to make her smile. He was rewarded by a brief upturning on the corner of her lips, although she didn't raise her head to look him in the eye. Soul started to sing, husky vowel sounds pouring out of his voice with more ease than words do. The vowels grew into words, a collection of them that made no sense, but they didn't need to- he was plucking them from his vocabulary because of the shapes they make and the sounds they form out of thin air.

The nonsense lyrics made Maka smile, properly, and it became easier and easier to forget that they are in a cell. They turned in slow, gentle circles, before moving onto slightly more complicated moves. But not extremely complicated, they were still handcuffed together. Soul danced like a gentleman, but Maka danced like a bastard grease monkey.

Just as it had built up, the song slowed down and faded into the air like it had never even existed, and they spun slowly to a halt, standing closely together in the middle of the bare cell.

It was now, or never, Soul decided.

He cupped her face in his free hand, and tilted her chin up forcing her to meet his eyes. He was about to kiss her when she pulled away, but there's not that far away you can go from a person you're handcuffed to and Soul managed somehow to swing her back so she's facing him. He was gripping her wrist probably a bit more tightly then he should, and he looked in her green eyes and she's _terrified._

Maka was scared of him. He was supposed to be her best friend and her pilot and always, always, have her back. Except she was absolutely terrified that he was exactly like her father, and she does want him; the abject fear in her eyes tells him that much. She's not scared of him, she's scared of what she believed all her life to be true. Relationships crash and burn. She did not want to lose him, and she did not see that she could keep him if they...

He let go, and stared in shock at the ugly red mark his hand left.

It took him a while to find his voice, and even longer to find something to say.

"I'm not... I'm not like your father Maka." The silence between them was huge and seemed insurmountable. The were unable to have the much needed space they required.

"I know," She moved closer, eliminating the biggest space they could manage to maintain. "I'm just scared."

They fell asleep in the cell, it took a while to find anything resembling a comfortable position on the narrow cot. They started out with Soul on the floor and Maka on the cot, her arm hanging over the edge of the bed. The hanging arm is the injured one though, and the dead weight pulls on her shoulder painfully. Then they swap around, but even Soul's mostly repressed upbringing can't ignore the injured lady (well, sort of a lady) sleeping on the floor and he can't get comfortable.

They tried facing each other, squeezed on the thin mattress, with Maka's back to the wall. This lasted about a minute until Soul rolled over, fell out of the bed and inadvertently yanked Maka down on top of him.

Eventually, even though Maka's pale cheeks were dusted with pink, they fell asleep in an arrangement that resembled Maka using Soul as if he were not just a pillow but, an entire mattress. Soul fell asleep with a faint smile on his face and his arms thrown with deliberate causality around her.

* * *

Soul's fingers danced on his imaginary piano, a nervous habit of his and Maka had hugged her knees right up against her chest. She wrapped her arms tightly, too tightly, around them; like it was the only thing keeping her together. They'd been uncuffed, thankfully, but the door was too heavy for Maka to kick down and something was throwing her Soul-Seeing-Thing off and making her feel more vulnerable than Soul had ever seen her.

They were scared, anyone could see it. But most especially, the crew of the _Beelzebub,_ lurking behind the incredibly expensive and only for use on special occasions two way mirror, could see it.

Maka scooted closer to Soul and hesitated before putting her head on his shoulder. His hands dropped through the imaginary instrument like it wasn't there, which it wasn't. He looked down, pleasantly surprised by her closeness. He didn't think he could still be surprised by Maka.

"They're watching us."

"Whose watching us?" Soul asked gently, slightly doubtfully. "How?"

"They're behind that mirror. There's... I don't know.. I mean I can't..." She shook her head.

"That's okay."

"It's the mirror... It's... It's mixing everything up," She took her head off his shoulder and he finds himself missing the weight. "I've never had a problem with anything like _this _before."

"Maka?"

"There's something else now, someone important." She kneaded her eyes, and frowned at the mirror again. Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to spill over, and Soul knew that this strange mirror was hurting her, so he stood up. He practically dragged her across the room and they resumed their position under the mirror. Maka wasn't able to see the souls all mixed up and blurred or however they were being distorted by the mirror.

He wrapped his hand around her shoulder, and she stiffened before leaning into him.

* * *

"What are they even doing?" Liz asked, unable to mask her curiousity. "Do you think they're like, together?"

"I don't know," Tsubaki replied thoughtfully. "They are certainly close."

Before the conversation got dominated by an argument on the state of the pair's relationship, Soul and Maka stood up and moved across the room to sit under the two-way mirror.

"Clever," Kidd noted. It was the first time he'd spoken since he'd come into the observation room. "But why aren't they handcuffed to anything?" Nobody answered. Time to change the subject then. "Black*Star, Hiro, have you made any progress with that engine?"

For once in his entire life, Black*Star was quiet, intensely focused on poring over his and Hiro's notes on the engine of the _Ghost _because nobody was allowed near that engine with any tools other than pen and paper because everyone wants to take it apart, but nobody knows how to put it back together. Except Maka Albarn, and it's become clear that reading and deciphering all her notes will take maybe four years or something.

Kidd's father had even gone as far as to hire a world renowned concert organist*** to deconstruct Soul's song and he was having no luck with that. All the man was doing so far was proclaiming how his elegant taste was offended by Soul's admittedly strange music and demanding coffee. He was spending his father's money complaining and criticising instead of transcribing the damn song.

Kidd repeated the question, slightly louder.

"None at all," replied Hiro, laying down his pencil and sighing in a very cliched sort of way, at the same time as Black*Star said cheerfully- "Of course I'm going to crack it soon! Nothing can keep the great Black*Star down for long!"

Kidd sighed, and slumped a little. He straightened again almost instantly when his father re-entered the room, having left momentarily to deal with Spirit, who had to be kept away from his daughter. Aparrently the only solution available was to send him to find a shoulder to wail on in the cabaret in the nearest town.

"It's been almost twenty-four hours, and we've learned next to nothing," Kidd admitted, resignedly, "I think someone should go in. We have every engineer working on that thing but we can't even read her handwriting."

"Kidd, how do you plan to proceed?"

"Father, I don't-"

"This is your case, Kidd. See it through to the end."

Kidd frowned, staring through the two-way mirror like he could still see them. This was huge responsibility, most missions were assigned as find and bring back the crook and the staff and law enforcement dealt with it from there. Why was this case so different?

"I want them separated," Kidd said finally. "They're stronger together, and we need to make them vulnerable. Move the girl, Maka Albarn, into a separate room. Send two of the toughest looking guys you've got to separate them. It'll rattle Evans, at least. Maka however, I think she's going to prove a tougher nut to crack."

* * *

"Soul," Maka whispered, leaning away from where she was straining to hear what was going on in the next room. "I think they're going to separate us. Just be quiet, okay? Promise me you'll keep your mouth shut?" He nodded, mimed locking his lips shut and in a small change from the cliche he pressed the fictitious key into her hand.

She gripped his hand. Soul hummed a bar and her soul, the coolest; most beautiful thing he's ever seen flickered into view. It was quivering with fear or anticipation or excitement, or some other feeling that would cause a soul to tremble. He can't read it, that's Maka's talent.

"Be brave." He wasn't sure if he was advising himself or her, but he figured that line line was a really cool and smooth lead into the kiss he's about to give her when she suddenly kissed him.

He was surprised at first, because he actually wasn't expecting that, but kissed her back immediately. It was a hungry and desperate kiss, with none of the gentleness he would've liked to offer Maka, but they didn't have time to take it slow and when she was the one that deepened it, he couldn't really claim to be all that sorry either.

Her free hand became inexplicably tangled in his hair, her round, calloused fingers caught in the knots, her other hand was still wound tightly with his at their sides. He wrapped his free arm arm around her-_ she's so damn tiny-_ and he was crushing the space between and he wondered if their souls were still linked and what does hers look like right now but he didn't want to open his eyes because that'd be uncool and-

_she's being pulled away and he wanted to call her name but she shook her head slightly and he remembered he promised so he looks at her soul instead before it disappeared from his sight and it looked so big and happy like she could do anything he was startled to feel exactly the same way even if it was killing him that she was being taken away and he trusted her and he always had and always would and she'd come back like she always did._

And then she was gone, and all that was left for him is to sit tight, shut up, and wait. None of these things are particular talents of his, so he focused instead on composing a song that tells the story of a kiss in a room with a strange mirror.

* * *

She was brought to a second interview room, this one didn't have one of those mirror windows, and she was grateful for that small mercy. Maybe they were expensive, or maybe it just didn't matter any more.

She heard the door open behind her, and resisted the urge to crane her neck and strain to catch a glimpse of her interrogater. He moved round the table, and Death the Kidd sat opposite her, armed with a thin file that let her know exactly how little they know. Before he could say anything or ask her any questions at all, she plucked up her courage.

"I'm not here to make any kind of confession. I'm here to offer you a deal, and to that, I need to make sure I'm speaking with someone who can make descisions."

Death the Kidd looked surprised for a fleeting moment before he regained his composure. "Tell me your terms, and I'll contact my my Father if I deem it nessecary."

Maka took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I want amenity for past crimes for Soul and I. None of our property- our house, wealth, lands and most importantly our airship, the _Ghost -_is to be seized."

"In return?"

"Soul and I on your payroll, working for _Shibusen,"_ Maka's heart was thundering, but she managed to keep her features impassive. Had she covered everything? The school, the house, her ship? Soul? "Fully licensed."

It was basically win-win, but she wondered if the son of one of the most powerful people in the world would see that.

"I don't think you understand the situation you're in, Maka. You have nothing to offer us. At worst our engineers and cryptologists are a few days from cracking the mystery of the _Ghost," _He bluffed easily. Kidd was a practised liar, there was no way she could see through him.

She laughed at him, a peal of genuine and bell-like laughter. She knows not only can they not crack it, because her most important notebooks are at the house under the floor boards of the library, but Soul really was the only person who would ever be able to fly it.

"Don't lie to me. It'll be a hundred years before you even come close to cracking 'the mystery of the the _Ghost'. _Your so called 'best engineers' just don't have the vision," She smiled at the joke he'd never get, "You see, Kidd, the _Ghost _is not only my life's work so far, and almost entirely my own design, but it happens to be built on some Cheryl famous principles. I don't doubt you've heard of them. Everyone has." She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table before playing her ace of trump. "Kidd, my airship is built using the Lost Technologies."

***I legit used to pronounce this word un-any-mouse**

**** Holy shit guys that's a whole 88 page copy gone.**

***** That is the stupidest sounding word I ever thought was fake that turned out to be real.**

**Fun fact, PG-13 films are allowed one non-sexual use of the word fuck in the script!**

**That was like meant to be a big reveal for Kidd, but not so much for every one else, because I think everyone else has it figured out... (Well, you guys were supposed to know that by now.) Anyway it was my birthday, which was fun, and please don't be afraid to point out any mistakes me and my lovely beta may have missed or ask questions or complain or criticise or anything.**

**I think this is the longest chapter to date, is putting it at 3700 words but that's with notes, so I guess 3550? **

**Slán.**


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